


26 Secrets

by melxmaniac



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-11 11:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 62,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melxmaniac/pseuds/melxmaniac
Summary: Derek Hale has been an operative for a while now. But never in his career has he met anyone as annoying as his new partner and trainee Stiles Stilinski. Stiles does not only piss him off tremendously but is also no help at all when it comes to the gang fights they are supposed to stop. In fact, he is only causing Derek more problems by the second.And then there is Izabel - who knows Derek better than he does himself sometimes. Izabel, who he is still worried about.Will he be able to train Stiles (aka not get him killed), save Izabel and not loose himself completely in all of this?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, this is the first piece of writing I have put on paper in a while, so bare with me - I hope it'll improve and take shape along the way.  
> And please excuse any mistakes, English is not my first language.  
> Other than that, I hope you'll enjoy this little something I have come up with :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Derek meets Stiles.

„Idiot!“  
The brunette curses as the door clicks shut in front of her. Balancing two grocery bags on her hips, she fishes for her keys and manages to unlock the front door without spilling anything.  
“What an asshole! Can't even hold the door open for one damn second.”  
She is so focused on not dropping her shopping that she does not turn to see the tall man hiding in the shadows on the other side of the road.  
Izabel had moved into this apartment complex ten months ago and by now she knew every neighbor in her building. Except for that guy. That guy who would blast his music in the middle of the night and just so happened to live directly above her.  
As she climbs the six flights of stairs (who in their right mind moved into an apartment on the sixth floor and didn't check whether there was an elevator), even the thought of her upstairs neighbor riles her up. By the time she practically falls into her small apartment, Isabel is fuming again. She didn't even want to think about this boy but every time she catches a glimpse of him, she can't help but wonder who the hell he is. Or why he does, what sounds like rearranging his furniture, every few days. And why he doesn't care that even the nearly deaf Mr. Parker next door has complained about it more than once. How can anyone be that ignorant?!  
She drops a couple of apples in the hallway and her dog, who is happily waiting to greet her at the door, is now trying to steal one of them away into his basket.  
“Mikey! I'm warning you! Drop it!”  
The husky turns his head and looks at her with big blue eyes, his ears perched and his tail wagging.  
“Drop it!”  
Izabel kicks off her shoes and steps out of the hallway into the kitchen where she puts down her bags. She shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over a chair at the kitchen table. She holds out her hand under the dog's snout.  
“Drop, Mikey!”  
The dog lets go of his treasure and slumps down onto the floor, watching his owner scuttle around the kitchen.  
“You know, Mikey. I don't wanna know what kind of a problem this guy has. If we didn't have this  
“no fighting or arguing of any sorts off duty” - policy, I would go up there and kick his ass. He needs to be told that he should get his own house far away from civilization if he wants to have a 24h club inside his bedroom. I mean, who does that?”  
Just as she starts ranting about her nameless neighbor, loud music starts to blare through the ceiling.  
“Oh my...”  
She turns towards the hallway, ready to contravene against every treaty she ever signed, when the song changes.  
“Mmh...at least he has a good taste in music.”  
Dancing around the kitchen she sings along to the music coming from one floor above her and finishes her task. 

By the time Izabel has cleared up not only the kitchen (“Mikey, sometimes I wish you could do the dishes. It's time you start contributing to this family. You're not even paying rent.”) but also vacuumed her bedroom and living space and loaded the washer, her dog is waiting on her door mat.  
“Alright, alright. I'm coming. Let's go for a run then, pooch.”

Izabel exits the house in running gear, Mikey close by her side.  
“Don't you dare try to scare him again!”, she whispers and heads off towards the park.  
After one lap around the lake, the husky doesn't seem to be exhausted at all. So on they go.  
A lean, dark grey stray dog is following them around. He keeps his distance and stays behind the tree line framing the path. 

Back home the music is still unalteredly loud. Izabel jumps into the shower and changes into sweatpants and a slightly over sized T-Shirt. Just as she drops down onto her beat up couch, her phone rings.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey, Izabel. Wow, you're still alive!”  
“Ashton.”, she rolls her eyes. How could anyone ever be that energized?!  
“What?? You didn't return any of my calls and I was getting seriously worried.”  
“I'm fine. I just have a couple of days off from work and wanted to relax for a bit.”  
“You're on holiday. That's great! We should hang out then. I mean, you're always so busy.”  
She rolls her eyes again.  
“You should have told me about your time off. You know, I still don't understand how anyone could be that busy. How can your job be so time consuming? Anyway, there is this really cool thing down at...”  
Izabel puts down the phone and ties her hair up in a knot. It will definitely be frizzy and wavy in no time, if she doesn't blow dry it now. When she picks up the phone again, Ashton is still talking. She listens to his voice without actually paying attention to his words and makes small noises of approval or excitement every now and then. Gosh, that boy can talk.  
Suddenly her door bell rings and Mikey jumps up from his spot by her side and runs towards the front door, snarling at it.  
“I gotta go, Ash. There's someone at the door.”  
“So, are we on for Sunday then?”  
“Just text me, ok?”, she gets up and walks to her door.  
“You weren't even listening, were you?”  
“Bye Ashton.”  
She hangs up and slips the phone into her pocket. Then she grabs Mikey by his collar and slightly pulls him back as she opens the door.  
“Stay!”  
The dog obeys and when the visitor immediately steps into the apartment and closes the door behind himself, Mikey slowly walks back towards the living room, his tail droop.  
“So you finally decided to come out of that alleyway.”, Izabel scrunches up her nose.  
The tall man just frowns at her. His hair and three-day stubble are black just like his jeans, boots and leather jacket. The only blots of color on him are his piercing eyes and the blue T-shirt he's wearing.  
“You're cover is not very convincing.”, he has a deep, stern voice that matches the burning look he is giving her.  
“My cover...I was buying veggies.You were the one following me, Derek!”  
Izabel jabs her index finger against his chest and walks into the kitchen.  
“Don't think I didn't see you lurking around. You know, normal people call that stalking.”  
She puts the kettle on and spoons coffee powder into a can.  
“Normal people don't have fake boyfriends they never call.”  
“He is not my boyfriend!”, she spins around and points the spoon at Derek who is now leaning against the door frame. “And stop eavesdropping on me!”  
He shrugs.  
“Ashton is just part of the cover. Mr. Alexander requested I act more social. So I am!”  
“What's the deal with that guy?”, Derek nods towards the ceiling.  
Now it's Izabel's turn to shrug.  
“I don't know. And to be honest, I don't want to.”  
She pours the hot water into her coffee pot and smirks at him. “Makes it difficult to listen in to me, huh?”  
Mikey sneaks into the kitchen and starts sniffing Derek's shoes. The man drops down onto his heels and scratches the dog between his ears.  
Izabel watches him and shakes her head.  
“What do you want, Derek?”  
He straightenes up again and ignores the husky who keeps nudging his leg.  
“I need you to come to the office tomorrow.”, he is speaking unusually quiet.  
“Why?”, Izabel crosses her arms.  
“I will be getting a partner.”  
She visibly has to hold back a smirk. “And what do I have to do with that?”  
“Izzy!”, his voice is almost a growl now.  
“Seriously, Derek. I know that we both like to work alone. You even more than me. I don't see why I should be there. Especially when I'm being forced to take time off.”  
“You have to be there. It's about the new mission.”  
“And Mr. A couldn't call me or page? He had to send you to spy on me to deliver the news?! You know, I don't think there even is a new mission.”  
“There is! And if any of the crap I could get out of A's new assistant is true, it's a good one.”  
“So, where's your problem then?”  
“He's a greenie.”, Derek pulls a face. It makes him look strangely adorable.  
“You're becoming an instructor?!”, this time she can't hold her laughter back.  
Derek glares at her, he has restored his grave adamant look.  
“I'm sorry. But didn't you tell me that you would never waste your time with any...what was it? … brainless, clumsy trainees?”  
“Just be there! 0800.”, he turns towards the hallway.  
“Okay.”  
Izabel rolls her eyes at the back of his head and pours herself a cup of coffee as the door snaps shut behind her visitor.  
“Why does he keep doing this, Mikey?”  
Her dog just looks at her wordlessly, one ear turned to listen to the fading steps of Derek Hale.

 

“Why do you always have to be late?”  
“I don't know, Derek. Maybe because I don't want to be here?!”  
Izabel slips into the elevator, presses the button for the second floor and pulls her hair up into a ponytail.  
“Did you find out anything about your greenie?”, she asks and takes her phone from Derek. She slips it into the back pocket of her green pants and raises an eyebrow at him.  
“No. Apparently he's so new, he doesn't even have a file yet.”  
“That's no reason to steal my phone.”  
“I was giving you access to the new intel system.”  
“Oh thank you very much, my dear Sir.”  
“Sarcasm doesn't suit you.”  
“It suits me best.”  
They exit the elevator and cross a huge hangar crowded with people carrying folders, piles of paper or boxes filled with even more paper. At the very back of it a security area stands out as the only real indicator of this being anymore than a get together of stationers.  
They walk through what looks like airport body scanners and head down a flight of stairs. At the bottom they get into another elevator and go down several floors.  
“I hope this is gonna be interesting. Because if it isn't I'm going to have to beat someone up.”  
The two of them leave the elevator and walk along a bare corridor towards the last security point.  
Derek shakes his head. “No, you won't!”  
Izabel sticks her tongue out at him.  
They arrive at a big steel door and Derek places his right hand on a small screen next to it. The door opens and reveals a room without any windows. Its walls are covered in pictures and framed certificates and newspaper clippings.  
“You should leave the talking to me.”, Derek whispers.  
“And what would be the fun in that?”  
They head over towards the big oak table placed in the middle of the room and sit down on one side of it. The wall opposite them is blocked by two huge book shelves. They are filled with encyclopedias and frame another door.  
After a couple of silent minutes the door opens and a small scrawny man with a graying goatee enters the room. He is wearing a grey suit that is obviously at least one size too big for him. Mr. Alexander looks as if someone has put a child into his father's clothes. Everything about him is grey, his hair, beard, even his eyes.  
Right behind him follows a young man who could not look any more different than their boss. He is wearing a bright blue and red checkered shirt and jeans. His brown hair is styled into a small quiff and he is smirking happily. He looks a little out of place standing in the midst of three obviously resentful people.  
He smiles at Izabel and she decides that she likes this new guy. Even if it's only because he looks like he will take the absolute piss out of Derek. She smiles back.  
“Hale! What is she doing here?”  
“Here we go...”, Izabel mutteres.  
“She is part of the team I assembled.”  
“We're is the rest of the team?”, Mr. Alexander twirles his beard around his index finger and sinks down into his chair – which is also too big for him.  
He indicates for the new employee to sit down on a chair at the side of the room.  
“I suspect he is the rest.”, Izabel chimes in and nods in his direction.  
Mr. Alexander and Derek sigh in unison. For completely different reasons united in their exasperation for her.  
“Gentlemen!”, Mr. Alexander begins and shoots Izabel a look that tells her to stay quiet. “This is our newest recruit and your new partner”, this he directs at Derek, who's cheekbones are more prominent than ever. He is suppressing his anger about this whole situation. “Stiles Stilinski.”


	2. Acrimonious - marked by strong resentment or cynicism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Derek beats Stiles ass.

“This new case is probably the biggest coup any of us have ever dealt with. Which is exactly why I am so happy to have Mr. Stilinski on board.”  
“With all due respect, Sir...I think we can handle ourselves well enough. We don't need help from a trainee.”, Derek's voice is oozing with resentment.  
“Mr. Hale, I am not trying to make this any more difficult than it already is.”, Mr. Alexander shoots Izabel a diabolical look. “And I would appreciate a little cooperation. I highly doubt that Mr. Stilinski will be anything less than helpful to you.”  
Stiles bows in Mr. Alexander's direction. He has been quiet so far but Izabel can tell that the new agent is bursting with energy. He keeps tapping his foot. His whole body seems to be in motion even though he stays seated.  
“We all know that two people attract less attention that three and I do not see any reason we should require help.”  
“You haven't read the file yet and after everything that happened in London...”  
“Ah, come on!”, Izabel snaps. “London wasn't even our case and most definitely not our fault!”  
“I don't think it would be wise to discuss this again. Mr. Stilinski will accompany you! End of discussion!”  
Authority is not Mr. Alexander's strongest asset. One might argue he has none at all. The way he likes to sit as low as possible in his chair allowes him to only just peek above the table top and makes him look like a gnome trying to climb a garden fence. There are more terrifying things in Izabel's life.  
“I'm sure I could solve the case on my own.”, the new recruit interposes.  
Derek lets out a laugh.  
Stiles ignores him. “Considering the number of people gone missing I think it's safe to say that there is a pattern here.”  
“Wait, you already briefed him?”, Izabel interruptes. Again.  
She is starting to enjoy this meeting more than she had anticipated. Mr. Alexander is already turning as red as a beetroot.  
“This is unbelievable! I am not going to work with this hyperactive brat.”  
“Hey...!”  
“Don't be so sour, Derek! It's not his fault that we're surrounded by incompetence.”  
“I refuse to tolerate this kind of behavior in my office. Mr. Hale I was expecting more of you. And I do not remember to have asked for your opinion, Ms. Reyes”, their boss is turning an even darker shade of red.  
“Well, sometimes it's hard to understand anything you say over the size of your ego.”, Izabel mumbles.  
“I have a meeting to get to now. I will be expecting all of you at the briefing on Wednesday!”  
With that being said, Mr. Alexander leans back in his chair and motions for them to get out.  
Derek flashes his eyes at Stiles and practically stompes out of the room. Stiles nearly trips over his own legs standing up. He stumbles after Derek jabbering on about how he won't be dead weight at all and how he really looks forward to training with Derek. Izabel rolls her eyes and follows them out into the hallway purposely not closing the door behind herself. 

“I did not sign up to become a fucking babysitter!”, Derek has tensed up during their time in the lion's den. He's fuming.  
The elevator door dings open in front of them and Derek nearly smashes the button for the ground floor with his fist. Izabel shakes her head at him but Derek crosses his arms and avoids her gaze. She rolls her eyes again and presses another button.  
“What are you doing?”  
Izabel ignores Derek and turns to face Stiles. “I'm Izabel by the way, nice to meet you Stiles. I apologize for Derek's temper, you'll have to get used to it.”  
“I'm sure I can tame the lion.”, Stiles jokes.  
Izabel laughes. “I'm sure you'll try.”  
She pushes the button for the sixth floor.  
“Archive?”, Stiles inquires. “What are we doing there?”  
“We?”, Derek snorts.  
“That's where I'm going. You will be visiting the training halls on the fourth floor. Derek will give you the full tour!”, Izabel shoots the fuming man a conspiratorial wink. “Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll start your training right away.”, she adds with a smirk.  
The elevator door slides open. Derek fixes Izabel with a death stare before cracking his knuckles and stepping out to move down another seemingly endless corridor with giant strides. Stiles hurries after him and waves goodbye to Izabel.  
Derek can't believe his luck. Out of all the possible ways for this to go wrong, this Stilinski kid definitely makes it into the top three. He keeps blabbering on behind Derek, asking question after question. He immediately answeres all of them himself though, as if his knowledge could somehow convince Derek that he's not a complete waste of his time. He snorts. What is he supposed to do with this skinny kid anyways? There is no possible way he can train with him, that guy looks like he would snap in half the second he shakes someone's hand.  
He studies him out of the corner of his eye. Stiles has the body of an athlete. He's skinny but lean. Derek can work with that. But his clumsiness makes the brunette boy about as useful as a monkey. Derek can already see him setting off security systems and smashing coffee cups.  
He keeps his tour very short.  
“Locker rooms...Showers...Training studios...Weaponry.”  
At their last stop Stiles' eyes grow to the size of tennis balls and he starts walking around the room touching every single sword, dagger and bat.  
“Are these real? Do you train with real weapons?”  
“No, they're fake. The real weaponry is in the basement. These are for training only.”  
“This is so cool!” Stiles now stands in the middle of the room with his mouth agape and performes a volte-face. “How does this work?”  
Derek sighs and watches Stiles pick up different weapons, examining them closely. He doesn't seem to mind that Derek never responds to any of his questions. While Stiles keeps walking around the weaponry, Derek tunes his rambling out and straines his ears to listen for Izabel. He can't believe that she left him alone with the new guy like that. He had asked her to come along because she usually handles the whole talking to people – thing. He sucks at that. 

~

The sixth floor houses the archive and an infirmary. The nurse's office is located at the very end of yet another long corridor and makes every trip seem like a death march.  
Izabel has walked the length of this corridor countless times. She could have made her way to the office at it's end in the dark without running into any of the stacks of ring binders that lie scattered across the floor. There are only a few people employed to keep the papers orderly and they rarely come up here. It is a weird place for the company doctor to set up camp.  
Knowing her boss, Mr. Alexander had probably forgotten about medical care when he had set up the office and in the end there had been no other room left than the this one.  
She enters the room without knocking.  
“Has no one ever taught you any manners?”, Scott looks up from his book.  
The young doctor always keeps a stack of medical books on his desk to study in his freetime.  
“I'm sorry to keep you from studying but I think you should take a look at my thigh.”  
“You know I mostly pretend to read these, right?”  
“Yeah, right!”, she rolls her eyes at him.  
“What did you do this time?”, he sighs and motions for her to sit down on the examination table by the opposite wall.  
“Nothing!”  
Now it's Scott's turn to roll his eyes. “And you expect me to believe that? After all this time?!”  
“Not really...”, she unzips her pants and drops them her ankles.  
“Ugh...when did you get this?”, Scott wrinkles his nose.  
“Uhm, last week or so?”  
“Izabel!”  
“I know...”, she shrugs. “But Mr. Alexander would kill me if he saw me “bothering” you during my time off!”  
“And since when have Mr. Alexander's orders ever been any of your concern?”  
“Fair point.”, Izabel laughs. “Can you fix me?”  
“Sure! But honestly, Iz – you have to come to me right away ! This is ….I don't even know anymore!”, Scott scolds her. “It could've gotten infected!”  
“I've put stitches in.”  
“I can see that!”, he sighs. “And although I have to say your stitches have improved, they're still not exactly the bee's knees.”

~

“Hey!!!!”, Stiles snaps his fingers inches from Derek's face.  
“WHAT?”, he swats Stiles' hand away a little more forceful than necessary.  
“Are you even listening, dude?”  
“No.”, Derek rolls his eyes. Maybe he really has spent too much time with Izabel.  
“Oh.”, Stiles looks down at his feet, shrugs and then waves a pair of nunchucks around. “How do you use these? I'm pretty sure I've seen a video on martial arts before, can we train with them first? I think I'd actually be good.”  
Derek takes the nunchuks from him and places them back on the wall. He grabs a baseball bat from another rack and hands it back to Stiles.  
“How about you start with this?”  
“What? But....a baseball bat?! I've held one of these before? Shouldn't we start with something new? Expand my techniques?”  
This room has Stiles' head spinning with his wildest spook fantasies. He can already see himself jumping from rooftop to rooftop, handcuffing drug dealers and rescuing puppies.  
“We'll see.”  
Derek leaves the room and leads his trainee to one of the training studios. It's a small, windowless room with a couple of soft floor mats stacked in one corner. Derek drops his jacket on the ground and stands in the middle of the room. His black shirt stretches over his chest and as he crosses his arms, his biceps stands out very prominently. Stiles has to admit he is glad that this is his partner and not someone he has to arrest. There is no way he would stand a chance against those muscles.  
“Attack me.”, Derek challenges him.  
Stiles looks at the bat in his hand.  
“Know what? I think I'll pass. I may look like a tough guy to you but I don't feel like myself today. At all.”  
Derek just stares back at him.  
“I do have a gym membership actually. I try to go four times a week but I've missed the last 1200 times.”  
Derek cracks his knuckles and walks toward Stiles. He is not having any of Stiles bullshit. He will be a lot of work but Stiles is positive that he can get through to him. He just knows that they will be great partners. It might take some time. Probably a lot of time. And if he has to beat Derek up for this job to work out, why not. It can't possibly be that hard, right?

Wrong. It only takes Stiles a minute to realize how very wrong he is. He has had training before. Of course there has been some karate and hand-to-hand combat but what Derek is pulling off looks more like street fighting to Stiles. His partner had kicked his legs out from under him. Stiles had very ungracefully fallen on to his butt and is now scrambling to get ahold of his bat. He takes a swing at Derek but is hit in the chest himself before he can hit his partner. He stumbles back a few steps.  
Derek is sporting a smug grin now.  
“Is that all you've got, Stilinski?”  
Stiles gnashes his teeth. He has come a long way from Beacon Hills High School. He has worked hard and he has had his butt kicked many times before. But something about Derek is more infuriating than any other asshole he has ever encountered. He's not going to let some handsome jackass ruin this amazing opportunity for him. Not this time.  
The next time Derek comes at him, Stiles throws the bat at him. Derek is too busy catching it, he doesn't see Stiles's punch coming. The scrawny kid hits him right in the jaw causing the agent to stumble back.  
“Not bad.”, Derek looks a little taken aback. He sure didn't expect Stiles to hurt him.  
Maybe there is something to work with after all.


	3. Banter -to converse in a playful or teasing way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the team spies on the Argents and Stiles blindsides Derek.

“How are we doing?”  
Stiles jumps out of his seat and bangs his head on the roof of the car.  
“Damn it, Izabel! Stop creeping up on me!”, he yells at the brunette who slipped into his passenger seat without him noticing. Again.  
“I told you to lock the car.”  
“I am trying to be inconspicuous here. You HAVE to stop making me scream like a girl. I mean it! If Derek finds one more things to mock me with, I'm literally gonna have to murder him.”  
“I thought you liked Derek.”, Izabel hides a smile.  
“Oh sure, I like him. In fact, I like him so much I have imagined his death a couple hundred times today only.”  
Stiles' car is parked in a quiet side street hidden from view by a massive hedge around one of the pompous estates in this neighbourhood. After their briefing on the case a couple of days ago the trio had started to keep their target's property under surveillance. When the coast had been clear, Izabel had installed a couple of hidden cameras across the street. She had even installed one up a tree. So now they all took turns to monitor activities from a couple streets away.  
“I heard you were having a blast training together.”  
“We're not training together anymore. After Derek kicked my butt about a dozen times every session he paired me up with some other newbie.”  
“Don't take it personal.”, Izabel laughs. “Derek prefers to train alone.”  
“I think he's just being a rude ass. Honestly, I'm trying my hardest here. And I AM a good agent. He doesn't even know me. He just gives me his condescending look. And what's with his face anyways? He always looks like he just ate a lemon.”, Stiles is talking himself into a fury. He's gesturing wildly - it looks as if he wants to tie a know into his arms.  
“Here I am trying to be a good partner, a great team component. But Derek – he's just rubbish. He doesn't even try. He never says more than one sentence in a row. And all his sentences are shorter than his hair. I don't understand how you can work with him.”  
Izabel is having a fit of laughter listening to Stiles' rant.  
“You just have to get used to his ways. Give it some time and he'll talk more, trust me.”  
“It's not even the talking. I feel like he doesn't like me. And I would be okay with that if he could just suck it up and at least work with me but no...Derek has to play the ego-card and go solo because he's so much better and far more experienced.”, Stiles shakes his head. Then his eyes widen like he just had an epiphany. “You! He trains you! Why …?”  
“Oh no. NOOOO!”, Izabel interrupts him. “Derek doesn't train me. He trains WITH me. I don't need his training. Not anymore at least.”  
“See, he trusts you. You guys train together. And I can't even figure him out. It's so frustrating – he's frustrating.”  
“Sexually?”  
“What!?”, Stiles turns bright red.  
“I'm joking.”, Izabel pats his arm reassuringly. “Calm down! Why is it even that important to you? Give it some time, things will work out. And if they don't you can always ask for a new partner. No one's asking you to marry Derek! Besides “, she smiles at him. “I think we're doing pretty great so far.”  
“I always had this image of me and my first partner being friends. You know, rocking the job AND having fun. But Derek just reminds me of the ocean. A little bit salty and a whole lot scary!”  
“So you do like him.”, Izabel grins.  
Stiles just shakes his head and turns his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

The west side of town has always been populated by the rich and newly wealthy. It had struck Stiles as completely idiotic to separate a town this drastically. Just because a river cut through it didn't mean that it had to split people. As if all this did not sound like a teenage drama show to him the gangs sold the deal. The eastern “Vipers ” and the “Gringos” in the west had been defending their territories for generations. But times seem to be changing now. As much as Stiles appreciates progress and social diversity he's not so sure he can be happy about the fact that his first job here involves a potential gang war. 

“So, are we completely certain that this guy is in cahoots with the Vipers?”, Stiles' fingers fly over the keyboard.  
“We haven't found any proof yet, have we?”, Isabel is fiddling with the radio. “I never believe any of these “facts” Mr. Alexander tells us until we've confirmed them ourselves.”  
She leans in and squints at the laptop. Someone is cleaning a black SUV in the driveway of the mansion.  
“That's not their car! Did they get a visitor? Stiles, you have to tell us if someone besides the family members enters the property!”  
“No one came! Their driver went to pick the car up this morning. He came back alone and the car hasn't left the premises since. Everything's normal – the girl went to school at half past seven, her father followed at eight and our target is still somewhere inside that enormous house.”  
“And when did the car arrive?”  
Both Izabel and Stiles are startled by the sound of Derek's voice.  
“How long have you been sitting there?”, Stiles turns slightly red again.  
“Long enough. Now – when did the car arrive?”, Derek repeats impatiently.  
“He only slipped in a minute ago.”  
Stiles nods at Izabel appreciatively. “The driver left about ten minutes after Mr. Argent and came back at...”, he scrolls through his notes. “9:40am.”  
“So he had enough time.”  
“Not if he went all the way to the den.”, Izabel has turned around in the passenger seat and is leaning against the dashboard cross-legged. “It takes 30 minutes to the river from this area and he would have to go further than that if there was a transaction. It would have been a close call in a car but this man was on foot.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Just run the plate, Stilinski.”, Derek rumbles.  
Stiles zooms in on the license plate.  
“An hour and a half is an awfully long time to pick a car up. Especially with all these car rental companies around. Derek was implying that the driver could have picked it up from the East Side. Maybe alongside something else.”  
“Well, nice theory but this car is from a rent-a-car downtown. He must have taken a bus to get there.”, Stiles pulls up Google Maps. “Would have taken about 40 Minutes.”  
“That still leaves a lot of time. Maybe he was meeting someone. Downtown gets pretty busy in the mornings, it's the perfect spot to go unnoticed.”, Izabel pinches the bridge of her nose.  
“We should keep watch in teams of two. This cannot happen again!”, Derek sighs.  
“And you should bring your motorcycle.”, Izabel adds. “If someone leaves again we should be able to follow them.”  
“You have a motorcycle?”  
“I'm gonna check that rent-a-car out. “, Derek chooses to ignore Stiles. “Send me the details!”  
“We'll ring you if something happens.”

And just like that Derek is gone again. He vanishes from sight as quickly as he jumped into the car.  
Izabel turns up the radio again and starts to put her hair into two tight braids.  
“Put the laptop on the dashboard, I wanna watch too.”  
“So he has a motorcycle?”  
“Yeah!”  
“Do you know how to ride it?”  
“Sure.”, she finishes the left braid.  
“I can't.”  
“Don't worry. Derek can teach you.”  
“Ha ha, very funny!”  
As Izabel ties her second braid, the driver finishes his work and retreats into the house.  
“Is there a way we can put a tracker on that car?”, Stiles asks.  
“Yeah! That's a good idea actually.”  
Izabel exits the car and opens the trunk. She rummages through the black cases and returns with a small beetle-shaped electronic devise and a remote control.  
“This little guy can set a tracker for us. Do you want to try it out?”, she passes the items on to him.  
A huge grin spreads across Stiles' face as he places the miniature robot on the ground next to the car. He shuts the door and presses the power button on the controlling device.  
A small screen in the middle of it lights up and shows the street ahead.  
“What now?”  
“You use the joy stick to move it around and once it's under the SUV, you can plant the tracker with the red button. It will stick to the car and you can direct this little guy back to us. Easy as that!”

Nearly two hours later the driver comes out onto the driveway again. He starts loading small boxes into the SUV. They seem to be heavy as he only carries one at a time.  
“Call Derek!”, Izabel squeaks at Stiles and jumps out of the car.  
They had sat trading lame jokes and pick up lines with the car windows rolled down. It had started to grow hot as the day went by and Stiles had stripped down to his T shirt. Now he pats his pockets in search for his work phone.  
“What?”  
“Derek, something's happening!”  
“On my way.”  
“You better...”, Stiles is cut of by the clicking of the closing line. Derek has hung up on him. “hurry up.”  
Izabel is stuffing surveillance equipment into a small backpack when Stiles peeks over her shoulder.  
He hadn't noticed half of these minuscule cameras when they had loaded the jeep at the start of the week.  
“So, what's the plan now?”  
Izabel slips a skeleton key in the back pocket of her jeans. “Now we observe and wait! Once they're taking off, one of us sneaks in there, disables their security system and installs some more cameras and microphones inside and around the house. Someone else follows that tracking device you set up.”  
“And what about team member number three? What is that?”, Stiles points at a black package with numerous cables carefully wrapped around it.  
“This will short-circuit any cameras the Argents may have installed themselves.”  
Izabel gestures for Stiles to get back into the car with her and slams the trunk door shut. Inside she pulls the laptop to her and zooms in on the back door. The Argent's driver is still carrying boxes out and the SUV's trunk is slowly starting to fill up.  
“Oh, and the last one of us has to act as a lookout and stall anyone that comes back before the set-up is finished.”  
After ten minutes the trunk of the black SUV is filled to the rim with identical metal boxes and Mr. Argent senior gets in the backseat. The car heads east.  
Once it's out of sight, Isabel pulls up a map on their laptop. A little red dot is moving slowly towards the river.  
“The tracking device should work fine unless they leave town. But I don't think they will. This program saves all data every five minutes but if they stop somewhere you should save it manually as well. Just to be sure!”  
“Okay.”  
“I'm going inside that monstrous house now. Derek should be here soon. When he arrives you guys can agree who's the look-out. Stall for time as long as you can...I'll need every minute. Text me if things start to get risky!”, with that being said Izabel gets out of the car and jogs over to the Argents' Mansion.  
“What?!”, Stiles gazes after her slowly shaking his head.  
Of course every second is precious time wasted. He knows that. And he doesn't want to seem incompetent but he wishes Izabel hadn't left him alone to deal with Derek. He will most definitely make Stiles the look-out and follow the SUV himself. Stiles would be a terrific look-out, no doubt. He can talk anybody into anything and stalling people by talking their ears off is child's play to him. But still...he knows he has to stand up to Derek and show him he's a great agent now.  
Or he'll never be respected by his grim partner.

The red dot has just passed the city center when Derek arrives. He is sweaty and out of breath.  
“Did you run all the way back here?”, Stiles asks.  
He had locked the car and positioned himself by a tree opposite the Argent's playing with his phone.  
“Where's Izabel?”, Derek rests his back against the trunk of the tree.  
“She went inside to install some cameras right after the coast was clear. The SUV left with the older Mr. Argent and a dozen boxes filled with who knows what.”, Stiles reports. “You should stop ignoring my input all the time. It's rude!”  
“How long has she been in there?”  
“Again. You HAVE got to stop.”, Stiles wrinkles his nose.  
“Stiles!”  
“See, it's not so funny when people ignore your questions”  
“STILES!”, Derek steps forward and glares at his partner.  
“Fifteen minutes.”, he raises his hands in defense. “You took your time.”  
Derek rolls his eyes.  
“But now that you're here I'm going to pursue that SUV. You can be the look-out. Bye!”  
Stiles turns around to head back to the car but Derek holds him back by the arm.  
“You're not going anywhere! I'm driving.”, he snarls.  
“Woah, woah woah! We are equal partners, Derek! I have the same right to a car chase as you.”  
“There will be no car chase. This has to be done quietly and discreetly.”  
“And you think I can't do that??!!!”, Stiles is starting to yell now. Derek is the most infuriating person he has ever met. Why does he keep treating him like a child?  
He starts to walk in the direction of their car.  
“No, I don't! And if you botch things up, I'm going to be held responsible.”  
“I can take on responsibility for myself.”  
“No, you can't!”  
Stiles stops dead in his tracks and spins around. Derek has followed him closely, ready to wrestle the car keys from his hands. Now they are standing too close to each other. Stiles feels very uncomfortable but he'll be damned if he is the first one to back away. He can smell Derek's after shave and sweat and at point-blank range the size of his biceps is even more astonishing. If he lifted his hand just a tad, he could trace Derek's abs and....he stops himself there. He cannot be attracted to this guy, no matter how handsome he is. They are fighting! He has to be angry! There is no time for puppy love.  
“That's your problem! You don't trust me!”  
“I don't have to trust you!”  
“Yes you do! We're partners for fuck's sake – we're going to have to work together at some point. We need to have each others back. And right now you're just a giant ass!”  
“We don't have time for this!”  
“SEE!”, Stiles wrings his hands. “You never talk. You're always mean and grumpy. You never listen to me.”  
“Give me the keys!”  
“NO!”  
“Give me the keys!”, Derek reaches for them.  
Stiles jumps out of his reach.  
“No.”  
“Give them to me!”  
“I will not give you the keys. We're going to have to talk about this sooner or later.”  
“I vote later.”  
“Might as well do it now.”  
“Give. Me. The. Keys. Stiles.”, Derek has urged him all the way up the Argent's driveway and against their gate. He is towering over Stiles and his voice resembles a growl.  
“If you want the keys so badly, why don't you just ask me nicely?!”, Stiles smirks up at Derek. He knows this will only annoy him more but at this point he doesn't even care.  
“We don't have time for this!”  
“You're repeating yourself, Derek!”  
For a moment Derek looks like he might just strangle Stiles to death but then he slightly steps back and relaxes his fists. Neither of them had realized he had clenched them.  
“Since you're so good with words, I think you're our best choice as look-out. You can just talk anyone who comes by to death.”  
“Ah, we're making progress. Now, I really appreciate your honesty there, Derek but I still don't want to stay here. And I really think as the older, more mature agent you should give in and let me prove myself to...”  
Before Stiles can finish Derek leaps forward and reaches for the keys again. In the last second Stiles  
ducks under his arm.  
“You run out of patience quickly, don't you?”  
Derek tenses and his eyes focus on the road. “Someone's coming!”  
“I'm not falling for that. How stupid do you think I am?”  
Derek looks squarely into his eyes.  
“Okay, don't answer that.”, Stiles turns around and sees a silver truck coming down the road towards them. He turns back around to face Derek. “Yell at me again.”  
“What?”  
“If they drive by and see two suspicious guys standing around outside a huge mansion, what do you expect they'll think? We have to pretend we're still fighting.”  
“Well, then give me the keys!”  
“You're not getting the damn keys!”  
The car is nearly at a level with them.  
“They're coming!”  
“What do you mean?”, Stiles' eyes widen.  
“They're headed to this house.”  
“What? No! How do you know?”  
Derek rolls his eyes. “They're signaling.”  
“Oh shit, oh shit! What do we do?”, Stiles is panicked and looks around frantically.  
“Text Izzy to get the hell out of there.”, Derek barks at him.  
Stiles nearly drops his phone while typing. Only seconds later it buzzes.  
“She says 'give me a minute'.”, he reads out. “Oh boy, what do we do? They're coming right towards us now. Do you think they'll run us over?”  
“Shut up!”, Derek grabs him by the collar.  
“But what do we do?”  
“I don't know.”, Derek answers but doesn't let go of Stiles' shirt.  
“We have to do something!”  
Stiles slaps Derek's chest with the back of his hand. The truck has now turned onto the driveway, the driver honks at them and stops.  
Somehow this sound seems to turn Stiles' brain off because he actually leans in and kisses Derek.  
He breathes in his scent and places his hand on Derek's arm. Is he imagining this or is Derek actually kissing him back?  
Just as the thought pops into his mind, his partner pulls away.  
“What the hell are you doing?”  
“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Out of my way, faggots!”, the driver of the truck has rolled down his window to yell at them.  
Stiles jerks around. “Jackson?!” He knows that voice.  
“Stilinski!”, the brunette sneers. Jackson Whittemore is wearing a black leather jacket and his hair is perfectly styled – as usual. “I knew you were swinging for a different team.”  
Before he can react, Izabel's voice rings out.  
“There you are guys! We don't have time for your making out. If we want to find Mikey we have to cover more ground. He can run really fast!”  
She strides towards them, the backpack slung over one shoulder. She has a leaf stuck to her hair.  
“He started it.”, Derek retorts.  
Izabel rolls her eyes and rounds the car. She leans down to face Jackson.  
“I'm sorry. We're looking for my dog. You haven't seen a husky around, have you?”  
Jackson looks her up and down.  
“No, but you'll be the first one to know if I do, babe.”, he winks.  
“Thanks.”, Izabel rolls her eyes.  
“Let's go.”  
“Nice seeing you Stilinski!”, Jackson shouts after them.  
“You know that doofus?”  
“We went to High School together.”, Stiles sighs. “But I can't imagine what he would want at the Argent's estate.”  
“We'll find out soon enough Now about that kiss I saw...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I mentioned this before but in this story Stiles doesn't know about werewolves yet because Scott has never been turned. Everyone else is just as supernatural as ever though. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you've enjoyed it xx


	4. Conundrum -a confusing problem or question that is very difficult to solve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denial. Lots and lots of denial. A misunderstanding and a mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a complete mess but so are the boys.
> 
> Enjoy xx

“If you didn't come her to tell me all about that kiss, I'm gonna kick you out.”, Izabel blocks her doorway and gives Derek her most devilish grin.  
“It's the fourth of July.”  
Izabel rolls her eyes and steps back. “That's not an answer.”  
“That's the only answer you will get.”, Derek closes the door behind himself and stalks into the living room. He sits down next to Mikey and pats his head caringly.  
“I'm not going to stop asking.”, Izabel shoves her dog aside and sits down next to Derek. She leans against the armrest facing him.  
Mikey climbs onto Derek's lap and starts licking his face. Derek growls quietly and the husky backs off just to stretch himself out across the werewolf's legs.  
“If you won't tell me, I'll just ask Stiles.”  
“Derek flashes his eyes at her. “No, you won't!”  
“Come on, Derek! You know I will. Just give me the basics. Work with me here.”, she playfully punches his shoulder. “You know so many things about me that I'd rather you didn't. It's only fair!”  
“Like what?”, Derek raises an eyebrow.  
“You know...personal stuff.”, she starts playing with Mikey's fur.  
“No, I don't think I know what you mean. Could you be a little more specific?!”, now it is Derek's turn to smirk mischievously.  
“You're an asshole! No wonder Stiles is pissed at you.”  
“He is?”  
“Ha!”, Izabel points her finger at him accusingly. “So you DO care.”  
“I never said that!”  
“DEREK!”, she sighs exasperatedly.  
“I'm not going to tell you! I'm happy changing the subject all night long, you know that!”  
Izabel huffs and hugs her legs. Her gaze is fixed on her partner and Derek can practically feel her thinking.  
“What are you contriving?”  
“I'm just contemplating whether I want Pizza or Chinese for dinner. Neither of them have deer on the menu though.”  
“Pizza's fine.”  
Izabel picks up the landline and dials.  
“If I had remembered what day it was, I would have gone grocery shopping.”  
“And forced me to cook for you again?”, the corners of Derek's mouth twitch as he tickles the dog's ears.  
“Yeah man! You're a great chef. That's what I miss the most, you know?”  
Derek lifts his head to look at her but Izabel is facing the other way. She has stood up to pace around whilst talking to the pizza place.  
“Hey, it's Izabel. How are you, Aldo?”

By the time the doorbell rings, Izabel has asked about the kiss exactly 67 times and Derek has changed the subject every single time.  
“Can you at least tell me if it was a good kiss?”  
“Your upstairs neighbour is awfully quite today.”, he says now.  
“Maybe he's watching the fireworks.”, Izabel shouts from the hallway. “Hold Mikey back, will you?”  
She buzzes the delivery boy in and opens the door. As she is paying him, someone comes up the stairs.  
“Izabel?!”, Stiles freezes mid-step, his mouth agape.  
“Hi, what are you doing here?”, Izabel balances the pizza boxes in one hand.  
“Bye, have a good one!”  
“You too!”, the pizza boy squeezes past Stiles who finally moves up the last steps.  
“I live here. Just one story up.”  
“No way! So you're living next to that noisy kid then. Poor you!”  
Stiles awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.  
“Not really.”  
“You can't not hear that noise, it's unbearable most times. Although I have to admit the guy has a decent taste in music.”  
“Thanks!”, Stiles' face lights up. “I'm really proud of my record collection.”  
“What? You're...? NOOO!”  
“Yeah, sorry about that.”, he flashes her an apologetic smile.  
At that moment Mickey comes running and jumps up at the pizza.  
“Derek!”, Izabel hisses under her breath.  
The she smirks and adds, this time louder. “Hey, Derek, look who's here!”  
To Stiles she suggests: “Do you wanna join us for Pizza?”  
“Oh, I don't know...”  
“Come on, it'll be fun. Team bonding time! And there's something I wanted to ask you anyway.”  
She drops the Pizza boxes in his arms, pushes him in the direction of the kitchen and shuts the door with a chuckle.  
This would be an interesting evening.

They sit down in the living room, Izabel squished between the two men. They very expertly avoid each other's gaze.  
What exactly is their problem? If the kiss didn't mean anything why did they make such a big deal out of it? Izabel has gotten more and more curious with every diverted question. Derek does a pretty good job pretending he's unfazed by this whole situation but Stiles' foot is tapping uncontrollably.  
Izabel feels like either one of them could explode any second now. She's not sure this is what she expected to happen. Why does everything have to be so complicated with guys? She snorts.  
Derek doesn't even turn his head, his gaze fixed on the dark TV screen.  
Stiles on the other hand is more than thankful for a distraction. His mind is racing, thoughts wreaking havoc inside. Silence had never been his best suit. It takes all he has to stay silent and not burst out rambling.  
“What's so funny?”, he asks.  
“Just you know...”, Izabel makes a vague gesture. “This.”  
Derek finally moves and looks at her blankly. His eyebrows are furrowed in true Derek style and his fist slowly clenches.  
“I've met a lot of hard-boiled eggs in my life.”, Izabel continues. “But you guys....you're 20 minutes!”  
Stiles' expression turns from clueless to enlightened and he bursts out laughing. He doubles over clutching his tummy. Izabel's smile widens as she watches him and soon enough she joins him laughing uncontrollably. Derek huffs and turns his attention back to the food.  
As the other two calm down, he remarks: “That wasn't even funny.”  
Stiles bubbles up once more and when he sees Izabel rolling her eyes at Derek from behind a napkin, he roars with laughter again.  
“Don't be such a sourwolf, Derek!”, Izabel elbows him and gets up. “Does anyone want a soda?”  
Stiles shakes his head, still laughing hysterically. Izabel smirks at him and heads towards the kitchen.  
Just as she reaches into the fridge, Derek's voice resounds behind her.  
“You have to stop.”  
“With what, Derek?!”, she snaps. The fridge closes with a thud and she takes a step towards him.  
Derek also inches closer wanting to bring more distance between him and any inquisitive ears.  
“Do you want me to stop getting to know your partner? Stop being nice? Do you want me to ignore him too?”, she raises her voice at him.  
“Stop playing him.”  
“I'm not playing anyone, Derek! I just want to know what happened because you can act tough and indifferent all you want, I know this has been bothering you the whole week. And no matter how many times you change the subject and shut me out, I'm going to find out. One way or another!”  
“What do you care?”  
“What do I...”, Izabel gnashes her teeth. “Oh, I don't know Derek?! What do I care?”  
She turns around and sets the can of soda down onto the worktop. She sighs and swings back around again. “You like to act like a professional asshole but we both know that there's more behind those big bulky muscles. I don't need your approval or permission to care about you, you know?! Because that's not how it works! I know you don't get it but that's what I do – I care about the people I love.”, she throws her hands into the air. “And that kiss clearly upset you.”  
Derek opens his mouth to object, but Izabel shushes him. “It has – don't forget that I know you just as well as you know me. And I want to help you, just accept it already!”  
“How is this helping?”, Derek crosses his arms.  
“Are you serious right now?! Bottling all this up won't help – it never has. And don't tell me you're not curious. We both want to know what Stiles was thinking.”  
“Not really.”  
Izabel raises her eyebrows. “I'm gonna ask him anyway. Because I actually think he's a great guy!”  
She grabs her drink and steps past Derek who grabs her arm.  
“Izzy.”  
“Your puppy eyes don't work on me any more, Derek.”

~

Stiles wipes tears from his cheeks, still chuckling. Izabel's comment had been spot-on. At first he had planned to talk to Derek about what had happened on that driveway but the more he thought about it, the less he knew what to say. Should he apologize for blind-siding him? Stiles doesn't feel sorry for what happened though. Embarrassed maybe – but not sorry.  
When he had seen Derek the next day, the guy hadn't shown the slightest inclination to talk about it. If possible he had been even more reclusive. This had made Stiles feel very self-conscious. To avert any further embarrassment he had been babbling excessively about anything and everything whenever he was on watch with Derek (Izabel hadn't caved in to his request to change the schedule). Derek on the other hand hadn't spoken to him at all this week. Not one word. He hadn't even told him to shut up.  
The very thought of it fills Stiles with nausea, he has to do something. It can't go on like this. He has come to terms with maybe potentially developing some tiny feelings for Derek but he can't stand another week of his silent treatment. He wants to be able to work alongside his partner without having to feel guilty for something that he doesn't really want to feel guilty about.  
But what can he say to resolve the friction? Maybe he can ask Izabel...  
Stiles is not sure what their deal is but Derek and Izabel seem to know each other way better than normal colleagues do. He's sure Izabel knows what's going on even though neither of the two have answered any of her insistent questions.  
And Stiles really likes Izabel! Over the past month he has learned about her history with Mr. Alexander (which made him like her even more) and how she had adopted her dog. They had realized they had a mutual friend in Scott and Stiles had confessed his former crush on Lydia after he found out that she was their “guy in the chair”.  
Yeah, Izabel will definitely know how he can talk to Derek about this. Speaking of which...when the hell had Derek left the living room? Stiles strains his ears to listen for any indication of his friends. Is Derek even his friend? He shakes the thought and concentrates on finding out why he had been left alone with a husky who was currently licking his foot.  
He doesn't want to eavesdrop on the others but...yeah, he wants to! Any excuse to find out what Derek has to say about the incident is alright with him. He can't understand anything they are saying but his team members are definitely arguing. Stiles can hear Izabel speak out against Derek and catches something about Derek being an asshole. He gets up and creeps towards the hallway. He stops in the doorway and hopes that neither of them comes storming out of the kitchen.  
“that's what I do – I care about the people I love!”, he can hear Izabel saying. A creaking floorboard startles Stiles and he retreats to the couch. The word “kiss” is the last thing he overhears before collapsing into the cushions again. Could they be...? 

~

Izabel storms back into the living room and sets her drink down with a little more force than necessary.  
“How about we watch a movie?”, she says through clenched teeth.  
“Okaaaay.”, Stiles scrutinizes her face. “You okay?”  
She sighs. “Derek's just being his usual aggravating self, nothing out of the ordinary.”  
“Is it because of the – you know?”  
“I don't know actually.”, she purses her lips. “Because neither of you stubborn idiots tells me anything.”  
Stiles scratches his neck nervously.  
“I mean, I get it – you're probably very confused and don't know what to think OR feel. But hey – I have a brain too. Talking to a friend usually helps with this stuff.”, she rolls her eyes. “I don't get you guys! Or guys in general...”  
Stiles is weirdly aware of Derek's absence. What is he doing? Did he leave?  
Izabel lays a hand on his leg. “You know that you can talk to me, right? I mean, if you want to.”  
She retracts her hand. “Have you talked to Scott?”  
Stiles shakes his head. “No, not yet. I don't think he'd get it.”  
Izabel nods and leans back. They sit in silence for a while.  
“I want to iron this out, you know. But how do I talk to him? He's been ignoring me this whole week!”  
“We’ll figure this out in a day or two, he goes back to being old Derek, everyone’s happy.”, with a kind of bitter sadness she adds: “Except for Derek, who’s never happy.”

They decide to watch a horror movie and when the first person goes missing and Izabel buries her face in Stiles' shoulder, Derek returns to the living room. He sits down without a comment and starts petting Mikey. His gaze is fixed on the TV screen but from the corner of his eyes he studies Stiles' every move. He's laughing at Izabel's reactions and Derek can't help but notice how easily they get along after just a month of knowing each other.  
“It's disgusting. And so unrealistic, he didn't even hit the carotid artery – there is no way the blood can spray this far.”  
“It's just a movie.”  
“That's no excuse! They should have done their research...”  
Derek notices the small dimples that appear only when Stiles smiles widely and how his mouth stays a little agape watching the wild goose chase on the screen.  
Derek had been pissed – very! Nobody had kissed him in a long time and here comes this gawky kid and dares to. It had been a clever diversion, he had to admit. But it also makes him furious because he doesn't like Stiles! He detests that clumsy, irritating guy who never shuts up. At least he did. What makes him even madder is the fact that ever since that day he can't help but see Stiles in a different light. Derek catches himself observing the kid way too often. This cannot happen.  
He jumps when Izabel drops her head on his shoulder.  
“The fireworks will start soon.”, she says drowsily and closes her eyes.  
“You should go to bed.”, Derek answers.  
“Nah, the movie's not over yet.”  
He shakes his head and looks over at Stiles who watches them with an unreadable expression. Mikey jumps up on the couch and lays his head in Stiles' lap.  
“Maybe I should go, it's getting late.”, he announces.  
“Nooo, don't be silly!”, Izabel is weirdly awake all of a sudden. “You have to stay and finish the movie, we just started this one! Plus, you have a great view of the fireworks from my kitchen window. You can sleep on the couch if you want.”  
“I guess.”  
“Great!”

Fifteen minutes later she is fast asleep on Derek's shoulder and Stiles is happily snoring away at the other end of the couch. He is using his arm as a pillow which makes it stick out awkwardly from under his head. Still, Derek thinks he looks weirdly serene.  
He carefully picks Izabel up and carries her to bed. He removes her pants and tucks her in. Afterwards he quietly closes the door separating her bedroom from the living room and pauses. Stiles has rolled over and is now lying on his stomach. His head is dangerously close to the edge of the armrest and one of his arms is already dangling of the edge of the couch. His mouth is agape and he's drooling a little. Derek snorts.  
He picks up the pizza boxes and beckons Mikey to follow him. Together they retreat to the kitchen.  
The werewolf sits down on one of Izabel's chairs and the husky lays his head on his leg, pawing at Derek to scratch his ears.  
“What is this, Mikey?”, Derek mumbles. “What is this kid doing?”  
The dog stares at him with loyal eyes and lets out a content hum.  
“Yeah, I don't know either.”  
He sits in the dark kitchen petting Izabel's dog and listens to Stiles' heartbeat in the other room. What was he going to do about this? He's 100% sure that none of this means anything. The kiss just caught him off guard. But the issue has to be resolved, Derek can't stand Stiles' awkward rambling anymore.  
Absorbed in his thoughts he doesn't know how much time has passed when the fireworks start. Mikey starts pacing back and forth in the kitchen and only when Derek flashes his eyes at him, does the dog settle down under his stool. He is still softly weeping when a piercing scream disturbs the night. The husky rushes out of the room, Derek on his tail.

Stiles jumps awake to see Mikey running in circles in front of Izabel's bedroom door. Another scream, this time less loud, rings through the apartment.  
“What the hell?!”, Stiles can hear the fireworks outside and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He is still dazed.  
“You should leave!”, Stiles jumps at Derek's words.  
His partner stands in front of him and gives him a stern look.  
“What's happening?”  
Stiles is certain by now that the distressed noises are coming from Izabel's room. They have died down to a whimper but he can still hear the occasional “No, no, no”.  
“Leave, Stiles! Now!”, Derek looms over him for a second.  
Stiles watches him open the bedroom door and follow a manic dog inside. Perplexed he stays put for a minute or two. What had just happened?  
Confused he gathers his things and gets up to leave. He pauses in front of the bedroom door. He can hear Izabel crying while the sound of exploding firework rockets vibrates through the room. 

On the other side of the door, Derek has enfolded Izabel in his arms. She is crying into his chest, her whole body vibrating with every sob. Mikey is rolled up by their feet, licking Izabel's bare legs.  
Derek pulls Izabel as close as he can and rests his chin on her head. His hands draw small circles on her back.  
“It's over, you're safe!”, he whispers from time to time.  
After what feels like hours the crying dies down to a hiccup. Izabel climbs out of Derek's bear hug and leans back against the headboard. She hugs her legs, leans her forehead against her knees and takes a few deep breaths. She flinches at every firecracker set off outside. Mikey squeezes into the small space between the two and curls up into a ball. Izabel lets one hand fall down into his fur.  
“I'll stay tonight.”  
“What about Stiles.”, Izabel mumbles into her knees.  
“I sent him home.”  
She looks up at Derek with tear-dimmed eyes. “You're an idiot, Der!”


	5. Dysfunctional – not working normally or properly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is confused beyond words and Izabel and Derek make a disturbing discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to REM by nothing, nowhere. (feat. Lil West) on repeat while writing this - if any of you want to check it out :)

Stiles stays up for hours after the disturbing events of the night. Of course he is worried about Izabel – whatever had caused her to make such distressed sounds must have been horrible. Never before has he heard such a pain filled noise. What bothers Stiles the most though is the way Derek had entered Izabel's bedroom without even knocking. It surely wasn't the first time he had been in there. Stiles weighs all options carefully.  
Maybe they are just really close friends?!  
Maybe Derek knows what instilled such terror in Izabel.  
Maybe this wasn't the first time it had happened and he is just very good at comforting people (Stiles can't really imagine that if he's honest).  
Maybe – just maybe – their friendship is so deep and pure that they are like siblings who care for each other and protect each other.  
Stiles really wants to believe it. But some self-destructive part of his brain just won't have any of that.  
He is lying in his bed staring holes into the ceiling and listens to his own thoughts battling.  
Why would they be just friends? Izabel is awesome – clever, sassy, beautiful. Exactly the kind of strong independent woman every guy would be lucky to have by his side.  
And Derek? Well, Derek is hot! Simple as that. And although his tough guy exterior sometimes scares Stiles, the events of tonight have proven that his partner does indeed have a heart. Working together for years, especially in their profession, must have created a strong bond between those two. So why wouldn't they take their relationship one step further?  
But then again, why would Izabel be so adamantly questioning them about the kiss? She doesn't seem jealous to Stiles and she definitely wasn't mad. Stiles thinks she's more excited that surprised – if anything.  
At some point the overthinking must have tired him out because the shrill buzzing of his alarm jerks Stiles from his slumber. He pounds his fist on the snooze button and rolls over. What had his life become?  
It's time to talk to Scott about this mess. He needs to let it all out if he doesn't want to blurt out anything in front of his team members.  
By the time his alarm rings again, Stiles has already stumbled into the shower. Fifteen minutes later he is dressed and ready for work. If he hurries he might be able to stop by Scott's office prior to his meeting. He takes two steps at a time, his nervous energy bubbling.  
He comes to a stop in front of Izabel's apartment. Should he check on her?  
Just as he decides to let her be and wait until he sees her at work, the door opens and Derek steps out into the hallway.  
So he had spent the night after all...  
Stiles trips over his own feet and nearly face-plants. Derek catches his arm and pulls Stiles to his feet roughly.  
“Thanks.”  
Derek just looks at him blankly and raises an eyebrow.  
“How do you even survive?”  
Stiles snorts. “How is Izabel? What happened last night?”  
“She's fine.”  
And again with the half answers.  
Before Stiles can ask anything else, Derek has vanished.

 

„Yo Scott, got a minute?“  
„Hey Stiles, what‘s up?“  
„You know my partner Derek, right?“  
„Sure.“  
„Would you say he‘s annoying and frustrating to work with?“  
„Not really. He‘s quiet and a bit of a loner but I‘ve only heard great things about him. He‘s never had to come get stitched up - guess he‘s a good agent.“, Scott shrugs.  
„Well, he is infuriating. Let me tell you! He‘s an absolute ass! He acts like the supreme god of ...I don't know. Everything I guess. And if you could see the condescending looks he gives me.“  
Scott can‘t help but smile at his friend's outburst.  
„He treats me like a kid. You know I‘m great at what I do - I don’t need an instructor or babysitter!“  
„You‘re the smartest kid I know Stiles!”  
“Right?! And he treats me like I’m the dumbest person in the universe. Who does he think he is? All he does is stare at people, flex his muscles and roll his eyes.”  
“So you like him?”  
“Whaaaa-?”  
“Sounds like you have a crush on him. Now that I think about it Derek is just your type.”  
“No he’s not.”  
“Come on, bro!”, Scott arches an eyebrow at his best friend.  
“Okay, maybe.”, Stiles runs his hand through his hair. “But it doesn’t matter! That’s never gonna happen. He hates me!”  
“How could he hate you? He doesn’t really know you.”  
“Believe me, that guy hates me!”  
“Who hates you?”  
Stiles spins around.  
“Izabel!”  
Gosh, hopefully she hasn’t heard too much!  
“No...nobody!”, he stutters.  
Izabel shoots him a sceptical look and jumps on the examination table.  
“I’m sorry about last night by the way. Derek just didn’t want you to witness my freak out. Sorry if he was rude.”  
“That’s okay. You good?”, Stiles has to restrain himself. He would love to ask what had been going on with her but Scott shakes his head at him. Why was everyone being so damn secretive around here?  
“I’m good.”, she smiles at him. “Sorry you had to see that.”  
“Technically I didn’t see anything.”  
She laughs. “I’m still sorry.”  
“What did you guys do last night?”, Scott asks curiously.  
“You know, Pizza and movies - nothing special. Do you wanna see my leg now?”  
While she undoes her pants and Scott examines the cut on her thigh, Stiles dwells on gloomy thoughts. Izabel is so nice, how could she be with someone like Derek? But then again, Derek did stay the night at her place. The sinister part of his thoughts takes over and suddenly he feels sick. There is just no way he can face the two today. He had just accepted his attraction for Derek. And now it turns out that his grumpy partner is actually in a relationship with his other way nicer team member. Who just saved him from having to explain to his best friend that he's been on the job for one month only and has not just developed a crush on his partner but also kissed him.  
“It’s healing nicely, keep applying that cream I gave you and it should be fine. It’s going to scar though!”  
“I can live with that! Wouldn’t be the first time.”  
Izabel jumps to her feet.  
“Thanks Scott! I’ll see you later!” She turns to Stiles: “You coming?”  
Stiles looks up at her bright smile and wants to vomit.  
‘How is this my life?’, he thinks.  
“Stiles doesn’t feel so good. I might have to send him home for the day.”, Scott interjects sensing that something’s wrong.  
“Oh...okay. Feel better soon! I’ll keep you updated on any stunts Mr. A pulls today.”  
As soon as her steps are out of earshot, Scott places a hand on Stiles' shoulder.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I can’t bear the two of them together today.”  
“What do you mean ‘together’? They’re your partners.”  
“I know.”, Stiles just shakes his head. He's not ready to tell Scott everything yet. “I think I’ll actually go home. I’ve got some thinking to do! Thanks for listening, bro!”  
“Anytime.”, Scott watches him carefully.  
“Just don’t overthink it, okay? I don’t want to find a case report about Derek in your apartment.”  
Stiles laughs dryly.  
“I’ll come over tonight, yeah?”  
“Sure, see ya!”  
“Bye man!”

 

“Where is Stilinski?”  
“You scared him away.”  
Derek gives Izabel a disbelieving look as he slides into the passenger seat.  
“He’s sick.”  
“He seemed fine this morning. Stop taking pictures of me!”  
“What do you mean this morning?”  
“I saw him in the hallway.”  
“What did you do, Derek?”  
“Nothing! He fell over and I caught him before he ate shit.”  
Izabel rolls her eyes. “How very noble of you.”  
They are on their way to a supposedly abandoned factory on the east side of town.  
Mr. Alexander had finally announced that the observations weren’t providing sufficient data and had given them the green light to investigate on site.  
He didn’t approved of their “breaking and entering” and tracking the SUV (mainly because he hadn’t authorised it). Nevertheless he had been content with the data Lydia had analysed so far.  
Over the course of the last weeks they had followed and tracked several different SUV‘s distributing boxes all over town but in the last three days their target had repeatedly visited this factory.  
Izabel parks the car several blocks away from their destination.  
They silently make their way through empty alleys past warehouses and storage units. When they arrive at a fence surrounding the compound, Derek stops to offer Izabel a leg-up.  
„Are you coming, or what?”, she lands on the other side of the fence gracefully and smiles at the taller man with a challenging glimmer in her eyes.  
Derek easily jumps over the fence and lands next to her without making a sound.  
She rolls her eyes. “Show off!”  
They crouch down behind a container and send off a tiny drone.  
Izabel pulls a laptop out of her backpack and squints at the screen.  
“There are security cameras at every corner of the building and all the cars parked by the front entrance have motion detectors under their trunks. There are two guards at the back door and -“, she leans closer, nearly touching the screen with her nose. “Six of them by the main entrance, two of which are up on the roof patrolling. Extra security cameras by the front gate are surveying the whole driveway. There’s a loading dock on the opposite side of the building! Seems to be less guarded.”  
She glances up at Derek and angles the screen for him to see.  
“Only one guard and the camera faces the ramp, not the yard.”  
“Maybe their suppliers don’t like to get caught in the act...”  
The drone returns from it’s flip and Izabel downloads a scan of the building on to her phone.  
“If we can make it to that loading ramp without being seen, we have a way in. We've got some pretty good cover here but on the west side of the building they’ve cleared all bushes and trees and we can’t just walk in through the front door.”  
“Can’t you enable those cameras?”  
“I could try ... but they would definitely notice! Maybe I can overwrite their code and reprogram them for a decoy update.”  
“Try.”  
“You’re not the boss of me, Derek!”, Izabel retorts annoyed. 

Five minutes later Izabel has managed to create a distraction and momentarily turn off the security system.  
“We've got ten minutes – fifteen the most.”  
She stuffs the laptop back into the backpack and stands up. Derek is already running off. She rolls her eyes and follows him. They keep close to the fence and take cover behind some wildly straggling bushes. The two guards ahead of them look extremely bored, one of them is leaning against the wall squinting against the sun. The other one is sitting cross-legged on the ground, he seems to be younger than his colleague. Both are wearing all black and are carrying guns. The older one has a taser gun tucked into his belt.  
Derek is already heading towards the building not waiting for Izabel's consent.  
She rolls her eyes and jogs after him. They are noticed soon enough, the second guard jumping to his feet and drawing his gun nervously.  
“What are you doing here? This is private property. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave!”  
Within seconds Derek twists the young man's arm to his back and clobbers him with his own gun. He lets him slide down the wall and moves on to the other guard who has whipped out his taser. The electroshock hits Derek right in the chest but before the older man can react to their attack any further, Izabel elbows him close to the collarbone. Hitting this pressure point sends the guard tumbling down to the ground, momentarily paralysed.  
“I'm sorry.”, Izabel whispers as she knocks him flat out with the handle of his taser.  
Derek positions the unconscious men close to the building so that none of the other guards up on the roof will notice them.  
They silently proceed and Izabel peers around the corner of the building. Only a few feet away the big overhead door is open and directly in front of it is an empty stool. The guard must have somehow noticed the commotion. He is on his way to check on his colleagues and walks right into Izabel. She has the presence of mind to knee him in the groin. As the guy doubles over she hits his temple with her elbow and he topples down.  
Derek flicks the body over his shoulder and sets him down in the long corridor that leads into the factory. Izabel pulls up the layout on her phone.  
“There should be a stairwell at the end of this corridor.”, she whispers as they start walking. “And there is definitely a huge basement. Could be interesting but I don't think we have time for that today. It looks like they have torn down all walls dead ahead and created one big hall.”  
She tucks her phone into her back pocket.  
“That could be difficult to get through. How much longer?”  
“The security system is back online in five minutes.”  
Derek picks up his pace.  
The corridor is nothing but a massive grey tunnel and there are no hallways branching off anywhere, nowhere to hide. Izabel pulls a knife out of her left boot. The two agents keep close to the wall and shrink into the shadows.

Stiles has spent all day on his couch sulking. Why did Derek have to be such a cliché? When had his razor-sharp jawline and chiseled abs carried over into his personality?  
After Izabel had left, Scott told him that Derek hadn't always been this taciturn. That something terrible had happened in his past no one here knew any details about.  
He wondered what a smiling Derek would look like. Probably even more attractive.  
So Stiles had stopped thinking about his attraction to a very grumpy dark-haired man and instead focused on trying to get his act together. He has to work with Derek after all – even if he has a crush on him (if Scott could tell, he definitely does have a crush on his partner). And especially if Derek is involved with Izabel in any way.  
Stiles does not want to be the one who starts drama and breaks up couples. He's not that extra. There's enough going on in his life already!  
He gets up and walks over into the kitchen checking his phone. He has eight messages from Izabel.  
The first one is a picture of their boss twirling his goatee around his finger. 'Mr. A is not amused.'  
Then a car selfie ('Waiting for Derek.') followed by several pictures of Derek.  
'He misses you.' (Derek looking out the car window)  
'Angry emoji' (Derek giving the camera a death stare)  
'Searching for you' (Derek peering around a bush)  
In the next one Derek is punching some guy in the face.  
'Any idea what those could be?' (A picture of weirdly shaped metal stuff)  
The last two messages are pictures of Derek again. 'He's definitely thinking about the kiss, I can tell!'  
Stiles smirks. Maybe he was wrong after all...

 

Derek pulls Izabel behind a row of barrels. In front of them stretches a huge neon-lit, hangar-like room. To the left scientists work at numerous lab benches. Neither Derek nor Izabel have any idea what they are doing but most of them seem to be mixing liquids of some sort. At the opposite wall a huge cabinet holds thousands of Erlenmeyer flasks filled to the brim with differently coloured fluids.  
Every now and then one of the scientist places a new flask in the cabinet. Others are collected on a bar cart which a security guard takes to an elevator in the back.  
To the right a make- shift blacksmith shop is tucked away behind a row of metal lockers. The glowing of a fire casts shadows on the walls around. A handful of people are forging weirdly shaped instruments. Izabel takes some pictures of them. The objects make her oddly uncomfortable as if her body recognizes them although she has no clue what they could be used for.  
At the far end of the room a gallery runs the length of the outer wall. Two people are standing next to each other overlooking the scene. One of them is talking agitatedly.  
“Is it that Jackson dude?”, Izabel whispers.  
Derek slowly gets up but Izabel yanks him back down. She taps a finger to her nose and nods to the gallery. Then she taps a finger against Derek's ear.

“I can't deliver that many! There's no endless supply.”  
“If you want any more weapons you will have to deliver, young man.”, Gerard crosses his arms and lets his gaze wander around the room.  
“Do you even know how hard it is to catch them?”  
“I do!”, he turns to Jackson looking him straight in the eyes. “And I also know how to kill them.”  
“Well, there aren't any more around. If you expect us to get more, we'll have to venture further out. I don't know what you need so many for but I'm not accepting any less than double the payment if this goes on.”  
“You deliver and I decide what you deserve. I don't think you're in any position to negotiate, Mr. Whittemore. And if you can't find any more wolves, why don't you start pestering that rival pack of yours.”  
With that Gerard leaves the gallery and leaves a fuming Jackson behind. Derek can smell his anger and even Izabel can see his eyes flash red.  
“STILES WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT JACKSON?”, she texts their partner.  
At that very second an alert pops up on her phone screen. They should have been out of here by now...


	6. Extemporaneous – with little or no preparation or forethought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Quick, act like a couple!" or what happens when the trio runs into Jackson.

"So did you know Jackson’s an alpha?”  
“Obviously not.”  
“But you must have smelled him that time at the Argent residence.”  
“Yeah, I could smell that he was a werewolf.”  
“So there’s no Alpha musk?”  
“No.”, Derek rolls his eyes. “There is no Alpha musk.”  
“Too bad.”  
Izabel had summoned the team to a coffee shop in town today. Stiles was running a little late.  
“Why am I here again?”  
Derek looks very out of place sitting in the sun surrounded by happy people. He is frowning at his cup and regrets not bringing sunglasses.  
“Because it’s nice weather out and I don’t want to wither away inside all day. Plus, I could bring Mikey along. Any idea why Jackson didn’t smell you in the factory?”  
“Oh, I’m sure he did.”  
“And why are you so calm about this?”  
“The whole place reeked of werewolf. If he had smelled me it would have been just another scent mixed into hundred others. He couldn’t possibly recognise me.”  
“Mmh.”  
“What else did you smell?”  
“What did YOU smell?”  
“Chemicals. And something like rotten flesh.”  
“Burned flesh.”, Derek specifies.  
Izabel raises both eyebrows. “From the blacksmiths?”  
“Nah, it was almost a mix of burned flesh and wet animal. A lot of blood as well.”  
“From the basement?”, Izabel guesses.  
“Probably. We have to get back in there.”  
“We’re not going back there any time soon, Derek! They definitely caught us on camera on the way out. And just to remind you, I don’t heal as fast as you do! We could send Stiles though.”  
Derek snorts.  
“Where is he again?”  
“With Lydia. They’ve sent out another drone to properly scan the building. He should be here soon.”  
They sit silently for a while. Izabel watches the passers-by. She puts her sunglasses on and leans back in her chair. This would be a great day.  
“We can’t send the kid.”, Derek says quietly.  
“Are you actually worried he might get hurt?!”  
“No!”, he replies a tad too quickly. “I’m just saying that the place smelled like a torture chamber and I think it’s too much for him to handle.”  
“Torture chamber? I thought it looked more like they were concocting illegal chemical weapons.”  
“It smelled like fear, hurt and stress. And not because of those science dudes.”  
“There were women too, you know.”  
This time it’s Derek’s turn to arch his eyebrows.  
Five minutes later Stiles arrives. He looks like a lost puppy, his head swivelling from side to side trying to find them. Derek watches him amusedly. Stiles walks past them, oblivious to his partner‘s brooding presence and Izabel punches Derek‘s biceps hard as she spots the confused kid.  
„Stiles!“  
„There you guys are, I‘ve been looking for you for ages.“  
„I know.“  
This earns Derek a kick against the shin.  
“Hey Mikey! What’s up buddy?”, Stiles let’s the husky lick his hand.  
„How about you catch Stiles up, Derek. And I‘ll go get another round. What do you want, Stiles?“  
„I‘ll have a coffee - as black as my soul.“  
„He‘ll have a cup of milk.“, Derek calls after a chuckling Izabel.

When she returns with three coffees (black for Stiles and her, caramel latte for Derek - yep, the tough werewolf has a sweet tooth), the two men are actually having a proper conversation. Stiles is still making too many puns for anyone to handle but Derek does let him get away with it most of the time and only rolls his eyes occasionally.  
Izabel smiles at them, she feels a little like a proud mum. Stiles and Derek nod at her thankfully when she sets down the cups but don‘t cut their conversation short.  
“We need to find out what they are mixing up there? When do we go back?”  
“We won’t.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“It’s too dangerous for you to go alone and we can’t be seen around there for some time.”  
„I‘m sure I could get in there. The 3D plan that we‘ve created is absolutely fool proof and if we start a night operation...“  
„You‘re not going in there on your own!“  
„I could!”, Stiles points an accusing finger at his partner. “With your whole Alpha demeanour you would never admit it but you know I'm one tough cookie. Because I am, in case you were wondering.”  
„You're about as tough as play doh. Which , in case you're wondering, isn't tough at all.“, Derek retorts.  
„I think we should focus on Jackson and this whole gang war thing first.“, Izabel interjects. „Let’s live this down for a while and then go back. Those guards are going to be on their toes for the next few weeks anyway.“  
She reaches for her cup.  
„WOW! I didn’t know you had tattoos?! That‘s so cool! Can I see?“, Stiles nearly falls out of his chair as he leans forward eagerly to take a peak at Izabel‘s half sleeve.  
She laughs and extends her arm in his direction. From her right elbow down to her wrist a pool of flowers spreads over her arm. Roses and waterlilies wrap around a dragonfly elegantly.  
Stiles is fascinated by these delicate lines. Scott has a tattoo but it‘s very simple and not at all delicate or artistic.  
„I can‘t believe I haven’t seen this yet!“  
„I do usually wear long sleeved shirts to work. That’s probably why.“  
Stiles is way too excited about this. He feels like he‘s meeting Izabel for the first time again. He never expected her to have tattoos. She looks so cool and laid back with her baggy white T-shirt tugged into her washed out skinny jeans. Her sunglasses are sitting on top of her head and her hair is gently swaying in the breeze. The tattoos complete her look perfectly and she radiates calm.  
As she laughs at his excitement, Stiles can’t believe how lucky he is - just imagine he would have to deal with Derek all on his own. It’s as if Mr. Alexander had paired Izabel and Derek up with reason for once. They could not have been more different but balance each other well enough.  
„Do you have more?“  
„A couple.“, she chuckles.  
She pulls her leg up and reveals a small whale curling around her left ankle.  
„The other one’s are in more intimate places, I’ll show you some other time.”, she winks. “Derek has one too, you know!“  
„What?“  
„Show him, Derek!“, Izabel smirks mischievously.  
„I’m not gonna take my shirt off in public!“, Derek sneers.  
Stiles blushes uncontrollably. He‘s left wondering what tattoo Derek could have when a familiar silhouette appears in Izabel‘s field of vision.  
„Quick!“, she yelps. „Act like a couple!“  
She pushes Stiles’ chair closer to Derek and slides their cups together.  
„Jackson‘s coming.“, she raises an eyebrow at Derek. „Act happy!“  
„What? Where? Why?”, Stiles panics.  
“I don’t know. Gosh, guys! This is just for show - act casual!”  
They still sit next to each other stiffly looking like two frozen branches. Izabel sighs exasperatedly.  
“Can you at least hold hands or something? The last time he saw us, you were all over each other.”  
Derek hesitantly lays an arm around Stiles’ shoulder. Izabel shoots them a menacing glare and Stiles shyly puts a hand on Derek’s thigh. He can feel the older man tense under his touch.

“So this is the little runaway, huh?”, Jackson stops at their table. He’s wearing all black and looks like he should be boiling under his leather jacket.  
Izabel gives him her brightest smile. “Yep, this little delinquent is Mikey.”, she gestures to the other two. “That’s Derek -and you know Stiles.”  
“Hello Jackson.”, Stiles doesn’t even try to hide his aversion for his former class mate.  
“Stilinski. Hale.”, he nods at them.  
“And what’s you’re name, gorgeous?”, Jackson smiles widely.  
Stiles can feel Derek shudder and tense even more. He unconsciously starts to massage circles on his thigh.  
Barely noticeable Izabel looks at Derek quickly. Then she smiles back at Jackson.  
“Izabel Reyes.”  
“Well, nice to see you again Izabel.”, he squats down. “And you, Mikey.”  
As Jackson reaches out to pet the husky, he growls defensively. Izabel puts a hand on her dog’s head and says: “He’s not great with strangers.”  
Then, to avert any attention from this encounter she adds: “Did you just move here or something? I’ve never seen you around before.”  
In hopes this would stop Jackson from doing anything stupid (like revealing his wolf-hood to Stiles by flashing his eyes at the dog), she starts blabbering and quizzes Jackson about his life.  
The brunette doesn’t give away a lot but he seems to relish his moment of attention.  
Stiles watches them carefully and rests his head on Derek’s shoulder. Izabel gives him a reassuring smile. She’s an admirable actress. Stiles feels weirdly encouraged by her performance. He reaches for Derek’s hand but the Alpha lightly shakes his head. Then, as if remembering that he has to play along, he slowly intertwines his fingers with Stiles’.  
Derek can hear Stiles’ heartbeat pick up pace and he feels heat rise in his own chest. No one has held his hand in ages. He’s hyper aware of the other man pressed against his side and his gentle breath grazing his neck. It doesn’t feel bad.  
But he’s not supposed to feel good about this! This is work. Completely professional! They are just pretending after all! There is no chance Stiles could like him. Derek knows perfectly well that he is an asshole and treats Stiles poorly. But it’s the only way he knows how to handle him. The kid irritates him in the worst way possible.  
Everything from the way Izabel throws her hair over her shoulder to the light touching captures Jackson’s attention. He has moved closer to her and is leaning slightly forward hanging on Izabel’s every word.  
“It must be so cool to be in a gang.”  
“Oh yeah! But it’s hard work keeping everyone in line, you know.”, he acts casual, his hands deep in his pockets.  
“Are you some kind of leader?”  
“I sure am. Speaking of which - I actually have to go. Duty calls! But how about you call me sometime?!”  
His face contorts into what is supposed to be a seductive smile. He pulls a pen from his pocket and leans over to scribble his phone number on a napkin. As he leans forward his jacket falls open and Izabel can see the handle of a gun jutting out of his waistband.  
“We’ll see about that.”, she says and grazes his fingers as she picks up the napkin. Jackson straightens up and turns to leave.  
“Bye.”, he nods to Stiles and Derek. “Call me!”, to Izabel. Then he strolls off.  
Izabel just waves the napkin in his direction. Then she sighs heavily and folds it up slipping it into her jeans.  
Derek abruptly withdraws his arm from around Stiles who retracts a little slower. Their fingers stay intertwined for a second.  
“What the hell?! Why would you do that?”  
“That my friend is called acting! And compared to your performance I think I deserve an Oscar.”  
“What do you think you’re doing?”, Derek’s voice is suddenly very low.  
“I’m trying to get some information from Jackson and find out why he’s working with Gerard.”  
“And how exactly does flirting with him help us?”  
“I don’t know yet.”  
“You don’t know yet? Great.”, Derek rolls his eyes.  
“Maybe I can get him to let me join the gang. We could need some inside info.”  
“Did you forget about the part where he’s a -“, Derek stops himself.  
“He’s a creep, Izabel!”, Stiles interjects.  
“I can handle creepy. And it’s just professional guys, I'm not gonna marry that guy! Besides, it's not like he's carrying a gun - running around murdering people.”  
“You don't know that!”  
Stiles can’t believe Izabel is serious. How did she even come up with this? Jackson is one of the worst people he knows.  
“Derek?”  
“It makes sense! He’s obviously a key player in all of this.”  
“WHAT?!”, Stiles throws his hands into the air. “You’re not seriously letting your girlfriend walk into Jackson’s trap, are you?”  
Derek’s eyebrows shoot up, he gives Stiles a disbelieving look. Izabel kicks her partner’s shin again and jerks her head in Stiles’ direction.  
“My girlfriend?”  
“Yeah...I thought you guys were...”  
“We’re not.”  
Izabel shakes her head and tickles Mikey’s ear. Stiles is turning bright red. He takes a sip of his cold coffee and tries to come up with something sensible.  
“So you don’t have a thing for Izabel?”  
Derek shakes his head. Izabel has never seen him this flustered.  
“He’s gay.”  
This time Derek kicks Izabel’s shin. Stiles just sits there his mouth slightly agape. Derek’s gay?! What?  
“What?”  
Izabel is about to say something but Derek has had enough of her bullshit for one day.  
“If you’re going to do this, we should strategize. You can’t just walk in there like that.”  
“It wouldn’t be the first time, would it now?”  
“Exactly.”  
“Do you really want to become part of this gang?”, Stiles has decided it is not the best moment to find out more about this revelation.  
“I don’t WANT to. But I think it’s necessary. Gerard won’t just tell us what he’s doing. Jackson definitely is part of it - for whatever reason. We have to know what’s in it for him and -more importantly - what he’s delivering to that factory.”  
“I still think it’s a bad idea!”  
“Well, this is the best shot we have so far. I’ll go on a date or two and in the meantime you guys can find out everything about Jackson Whittemore you can possibly find.”  
“First of all we need to find out who this “enemy” of his is.”, Derek says.  
“What enemy?”  
“Gerard told Jackson to go for his rivals when we overheard them talking in that factory.”, Izabel explains.  
“But isn’t it obvious?”  
“No.”  
“Yeah, it is!”, Stiles smiles proudly. “Jackson is the Alpha of the Vipers.”  
Derek tenses at Stiles’ choice of words.  
“His biggest rivals have to be the Gringos! They have been fighting each other for territory for ages. So all we have to do is find out who their leader is and why he could possibly be in conflict with Jackson.”, he smiles proudly.  
“Theo Raeken.”, Izabel says flatly.  
“You know about him?”  
Derek crosses his arms and leans back. “Oh, we know him!”  
“But that’s awesome! I think we should...”, Stiles starts to plot. He’s unaware of the worried look on Derek’s face and the absent expression on Izabel’s.

 

They break up their meeting about half an hour later. Izabel heads to the park with Mikey, Derek leaves to go home and Stiles returns to the office. He makes his way to the archive. He is proud to have come up with such a great plan but he also feels a little left out not knowing anything about Theo Raeken. He starts to look for old reports from his partners and sets up camp at one of the empty desks by the door.  
This is where Scott finds him two hours later. Stiles is surrounded by papers, his hair is a mess and he looks extremely tired.  
“Dude, what are you doing?”  
“Oh hey man! Did you know that Derek and Izabel started working here at nearly the same time.”  
“Are you stalking them?”  
“They have so much background information and experience. I just want to know where I need to brush up my knowledge. Listen to this: “Agents Hale and Reyes start to infiltrate 'blank' in London on the 'blank'”. Then there's a whole paragraph that's been blacked out.”, he flips a page.  
“Then there's something about them being separated and Izabel being captured. Then another black blotch and somewhere at the end it says“Agent severely injured and transported back to US. Hale kills 'blank' in hand-to-hand combat.” This was their first case as partners. I have no idea why everything is blacked out though?!”  
“I only know what Lydia told me, she’s been here the longest.”  
“Lydia? She never mentioned anything about either of them to me.”  
Scott shrugs: “Maybe because you never asked.”  
“What did she tell you?”  
“That they both started working for Mr. A for the wrong reasons. Both of them were young and inexperienced but they were fighters. In my opinion Mr. A kinda exploited them. Two desperate young adults trying to run from their past. Derek needed to get away from himself and Izabel from her family. Apparently he drilled them harder than anyone else. But if you want to find out more why don’t you just ask them?”  
“Why would anyone choose this life as a teenager?”  
“Stiles, just ask them.”  
“Have you read any of this? They’re elite. I can’t compete with that!”  
“No. I’m just the doctor, remember?!”  
“Derek was only nineteen when he started taking cases. Nineteen, Scott! And he has never once returned injured. What the hell? And Izabel was even younger - these reports make them look like some sort of secret super squad! No wonder Derek treats me like a dumb kid. They have crazy stats! This is unreal ...”  
He starts to ruffle through the pages.  
“And this, this is just insane! They took down a whole drug circle when they were my age - this is exactly what I’ve always dreamed of!”, he shakes his head. “I can’t compete with that!”  
“You’re a smart kid, Stiles! They may be kick-ass fighters but they don’t have your wit. Mr. A may not have the greatest reputation but he knows how to assemble great teams. Don’t worry about it.”


	7. finesse -subtly skillful handling of a situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's date night everyone! :)

'I could use some extra ears on that date tonight.'  
Derek snorts at his phone.  
He can't believe that Izabel is following through with this. This would be the third time this week she goes on a date with Jackson. Sure, it's moving their case along. And of course he knows that Izzy can take care of herself. But he's still worried about her.  
He knows perfectly well that the girl has a history of trusting the wrong people and opening up too quickly and carelessly. And Jackson seems like the kind of guy who takes advantage of that. 

'When and where?', he replies.

Stiles and him had spent nearly all of the past week researching Jackson and his Vipers. From what Stiles had told him about the Jackson he knew back in High School, Derek got a pretty good idea of this Alpha's mindset. He portraits the possessive, aggressive, territorial and compulsive cliché werewolf to a point of absurdity.  
The Vipers had been following a guy called Matt Daehler before Jackson had taken over. Derek suspects that he killed Daehler. There are no further records of him anywhere. Which is exactly where the trouble starts. The Vipers had never been supernatural, at least not the majority of them. But judging by Izabel's reports the gang has not only grown in numbers.  
Jackson has been boasting about his fellow gang members being absolutely loyal to him. Of course they didn't know this for sure but Derek's certain that Jackson has made them his pack. Which again, is taking this whole disaster to another level. How are they supposed to solve this case and keep Stiles, let alone the authorities, from finding out about werewolves? Jackson has turned a whole gang into supernatural creatures, is making bargain with a werewolf hunter and possibly waging war with another pack of werewolves. This wouldn't be so simple to cover up!

'Gala, 8pm. Wear something nice!'

~

“Why did we have to stop at that restaurant again?”  
Jackson leans against the counter of the Chinese restaurant.  
“Because my friends are going through a tough time and I want them to talk it out. So I booked a table for them and payed for their meal.”  
“Are we talking about Stilinski here?”  
“Yep.”  
Izabel takes their takeaway from the cashier. Jackson pulls a face behind her back.  
“They were on cloud nine when I saw them last.”  
“Well, that was last week.”, Izabel rolls her eyes at him as Jackson opens the door for her with a curtsy. “Besides, you're a guy. What do you know?”  
“What's that supposed to mean?!”, he acts offended.  
“It means that men generally have the empathic abilities of a piece of bread. And since there's two of them, the problem's twice as complicated.”  
Jackson's laughing at her. Izabel punches him in the shoulder.  
“You know I'm right!”  
“If you say so! I just think they're lucky you're such a great friend.”  
“Whatever.”, Izabel hides her smile. “So, tell me more about your bike. Is that a gang thing? Like a company car?”  
“Not really. More like a team jersey. If they're fighting how will you get them both to come there?”  
“They both think they are meeting me there.”  
“And what if they just leave once they see each other.”  
“They won't, trust me!”, she winks at him. “Do you guys have a gang lair or do you just meet up in dark backstreets?”

~

It had not been easy to explain the affair with Theo to Stiles. Derek had only given him the basics. That him and Izabel had been sent to infiltrate a secret circle independently. That it had turned out to be a drug dealing gang led by Theo Raeken. That they had been busted and had to fight their way out. That there had been a lot of casualties. That afterwards they had become partners.  
Of course Stiles had not been happy with these half-truths. But no matter how many questions he asked, Derek hadn't told him more.  
He didn't mention that Theo was a werewolf and had nearly turned Izabel into one. He didn't explain that he himself had nearly died on that mission. He didn't tell Stiles that he had wanted to die. 

At 7.40 Derek locks his motorcycle. He's parked in a road running parallel to the fancy restaurant Izabel texted him about. He is dressed in black jeans, a black button-up and his black leather boots. He melts into the shadows of an alleyway across the road from the establishment.  
Ten minutes pass and an elderly couple enters the restaurant. Just as the door falls shut behind them, a familiar scent fills Derek's nostrils.  
What is he doing here?  
Another minute later, Stiles comes down the street with bouncy steps. He's even more dolled up than Derek wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath. Derek rushes over to him and heads him off.  
“What are you doing here?”, he asks through clenched teeth.  
“Backing Izabel up. What do you want here?”  
“Of course.”, Derek sighs.  
Naturally Izabel had asked them both to come. They are a team after all.  
“We should go inside before they turn up.”  
Stiles opens the door and Derek follows him inside. The interior of the restaurant screams romance. The dimmed lights create a cosy atmosphere and on every table a candle casts flickering shadows on old and young couples alike. Fairy lights are hanging from the bar in the back and most tables are hidden away in small booths to give people some privacy.  
Derek wants to vomit.  
“She wants to meet him here???”, Stiles looks like he just saw a three-headed dog walk by.  
Derek shrugs.  
Before either of them can say anything else, a waiter walks up to them. He's sporting a beaming smile and welcomes them with his arms spread open.  
“Welcome to The Gala gentlemen. Tonight is your lucky night!”  
Another waiter joins him and ushers the pair towards a table tucked away in nook to the right.  
“In celebration of our 100-year anniversary we will be giving you – our 100th guests – today's special menu for free!”  
He bows before them and leaves with his colleague, only to return a second later with two glasses and a bottle of champagne.  
“If I may?!”  
He sets down the glasses in front of the two blind-sided men and pours the champagne.  
“Enjoy gentlemen!”  
“What the hell?”, Derek is getting more and more annoyed by the second. Not only did Izabel not tell him Stiles would be here, now he has to have dinner with him in the most romantic restaurant in town. And to make things even worse, the kid looks extremely handsome in that suit.  
“This is really fancy. Izabel didn't lie.”, Stiles is already munching on some breadsticks the waiter has placed on their table. Derek rolls his eyes.  
“What exactly did she tell you?”  
“She called me this morning and said that she needed someone to record her conversation with Jackson because she wants to get him to spill the beans tonight. She said you were busy though!”  
“Of course she did!”  
The waiter sets down plates in front of them mumbling something about venison carpaccio. Stiles picks up a fork and pokes the food.  
“Is this even edible? How is this meat?”  
Derek keeps glancing at the door but Izabel doesn't show up. At 8:15 he pulls out his phone to call her. A text pops up on his screen.

'Be nice! Try to have fun!'

He scowls at his phone.  
“What's wrong? Did she text you?”, Stiles cranes his neck to sneak a glance at Derek's phone.  
“Yeah.”, he replies coolly.  
She had set them up. Why is he even surprised?!  
“She's not coming.”  
“Whaaaat?”, Stiles keeps shovelling food in his mouth.  
“I'm leaving. She set us up.”  
Stiles' look changes from confused to betrayed to embarrassed and he blushes. Derek gets up but his partner catches him by the sleeve.  
“Derek wait!”, his blush intensifies and he doesn't look Derek in the eye. “We still have free food though.”

~

“You're awfully interested in this whole gang thing. Why don't we talk about something else for a change?”  
“Don't act like you don't enjoy talking about yourself.”, Izabel wiggles her eyebrows at Jackson. A little more quietly, she adds: “My brother used to be in a gang. It kinda broke my family apart.”  
“Oh.”  
They are sitting on a bench by the river, their empty takeaway boxes next to them.  
“What do you mean 'used to'?”, Jackson presses on.  
“He died.”  
“I'm sorry.”  
Jackson puts his hand on Izabel's. She doesn't pull away, her eyes are glazed over and she stares off into the distance. They sit like this for a while, then the werewolf speaks up again.  
“My parents died in a car accident the day before I was born.”  
Izabel snaps out of her trance and turns to face him, their hands disconnecting.  
“Before you...but how...I mean?”  
Jackson lets out a small laugh. “I was delivered via C-Section.”  
“Mmh.”, she nods and stares over his shoulder, lost in thoughts.  
“Hey.”, Jackson moves a little closer and rests his hand on Izabel's thigh. “How did your brother end up in a gang? If you don't mind me asking..”  
She looks him in the eyes searching for base motives behind his question.  
“I don't know exactly. He started hanging out with these guys in freshman year. They used to smoke weed and some other stuff too. My dad wasn't happy – obviously. But Kyle never listened to him and when he started sneaking out and not coming back for days dad freaked out.”  
Izabel pulls her legs up to sit cross-legged. Jackson's expression has grown dark.  
“One day he turned up at home with this expensive bike and he wouldn't tell us where he got the money from to pay for it. Dad snapped and accused him of dealing drugs. And then he started beating Kyle up.”, she snuffles.  
“After that my mum fell back into her old drinking habits. And Kyle left home. For good.”

~

“Excuse me, Sir? Could you please keep it down?”  
“We're not fighting.”, Stiles yells after the waiter. “We're having a creative discussion!”  
“We're fighting!”  
“Creative discussion!”  
“Fighting!”  
Stiles rolls his eyes. “You are unbelievable! How can anyone in their right mind say lacrosse is no sport?!”  
“You're catching balls with nets on a stick.”  
“And it's fucking exhausting!”  
“So is talking to you. And I wouldn't consider that a sport.”, Derek folds his arms in front of his chest and fixes his gaze on the man in front of him. Stiles has taken of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The toned arms Derek has watched browse through endless reports for the last five days are flailing around wildly in front of Stiles' face. He is gesticulating and rambles on about Lacrosse and his High School team. His hair is no longer combed back neatly, he's been nervously running his hand through it too many times now. He looks dishevelled – and tired. Derek ignores Stiles' speech about lacrosse and focuses on his face instead.  
His eyes are red-rimmed and there are bags underneath them. He still looks cute. Not the type Derek would usually go for but then again, there hasn't been anything more than a one-night stand for years. Not since Izabel...  
Izabel who has been bugging him about Stiles for weeks now. She feels that Derek needs to stop ostracising himself and start believing that he deserves love. That there is a man out there who can see past his tough guy exterior and like the Derek underneath.  
Or in her words “Get your head out of your ass, dude! The both of you have got to stop with your 'is this awkward eye contact or are we checking each other out ' bullshit!”

~

It's easier to talk to Jackson than Izabel expected. Apart from his boasting he's actually fun to hang out with. Maybe the macho behaviour simply comes standard with being a werewolf.  
“I have never seen so much blood in my life.”, Izabel lies.  
She has. The things she has seen, the things she wishes she hadn't...  
“You were there when your brother got shot?!”, Jackson looks at her disbelievingly.  
“I used to meet him every now and then behind my parents' backs. He was still my brother, you know?! I always tried to convince him to come clean and tell our parents the truth. But he wouldn't listen!”  
“That's horrible!”, Jackson shakes his head.  
“A bullet right to the chest.”  
Izabel's not sure why she tells Jackson about Kyle in such detail. She had planned to. It was the only way he wouldn't be suspicious of her constant questions about his gang. She's sure after hearing her story he will tell her everything she needs to know.  
But still...no one knows about Kyle. Except for Derek.  
Derek. She hopes he stayed at the restaurant with Stiles.  
“I'm sorry you had to see that!”  
“It's not your fault.”, she sighs. “Besides, I can handle it.”  
“I know.”, Jackson chuckles.  
“But for real though, that's why I want to understand what it's like to be in a gang. How it all works, you know?”  
“I get it.”, Jackson leans in closely. “I'll tell you anything you want to know. But you can't tell a single soul!”

~

“I've never been more insulted!”  
“You don't listen much, do you?”, Derek puts down his spoon and downs the rest of his drink.  
Somehow they had gotten through a whole 5-course meal without choking each other. Stiles had even managed to get a laugh out of his partner at one point. It had been at his own charge but he'll take what he can get. If it takes him falling over his own feet to amuse Derek, Stiles is happy to arrange that.

When they step out of the restaurant after two hours Derek inhales deeply. He has never been a fan of confined spaces.  
“That wasn't too bad.”, he admits.  
“Maybe we could do it again sometime?”  
Derek raises his eyebrows. “Don't test me, Stilinski!”  
Then he spots someone familiar across the street.  
Chris Argent gets out of his jeep. Just as Derek starts to walk up to him, Stiles spots him as well.  
“Derek, what are you doing?”  
“I'm going to talk to Argent.”  
“What about our policy?”  
“I know him, we've hunted together before.”  
“So? Our policy is...”  
“I'm changing the policy.”  
“You can't just...”  
Stiles is interrupted by a female voice. “Stiles? Is that you?”  
“Allison, hey!”, he greets his best friend's ex.  
“What are you doing here? I thought you still lived in Beacon Hills with your dad.”, she questions him while Derek and Chris talk in hushed voices.  
“I accepted a job here.”  
“As a cop?”  
“Kind of, yeah.”  
“That's great!”, she smiles at him widely. “Have you seen Scott lately?”  
“Have I seen him? Yeah, I definitely see my best friend. On a regular basis. Regularly.”  
This is too awkward. Stiles has never been a huge fan of Allison and the way she turned Scott's head. But now after she has broken up with him for no apparent reason he dislikes her even more. After all, he had been the one to endure Scott's whining and self-pity for weeks. It hadn't been pretty.  
“I never meant to hurt him, Stiles.”  
“Well, that didn't work.”, he mutters under his breath.  
“I had to protect him. I'm part of the family business now. And neither of us would want Scott to be dragged into this. It's far more dangerous than you know!”  
Stiles knows more than he can admit. But no matter how little he thinks of Allison, he doesn't think she would be a part of whatever illegal dealings Gerard is up to. Which makes absolutely no sense because why would she need to protect Scott from a firearms dealer and security consultant agency?!  
“You have to believe me, Stiles!”  
“I'm not the one who has to believe anything you say.”  
Allison is about to say something else but Derek grabs Stiles' arm abruptly and practically drags him to his side.  
“We have to go now!”  
“Okaaaay?”, he shrugs and follows his partner, happy to escape this weird encounter with Allison.  
“Why exactly are we leaving?”  
Derek doesn't answer him. Stiles punches him in the back.  
“I'm talking to you!”  
“Was that supposed to hurt?”  
Stiles rolls his eyes at Derek. “Did you get the info you wanted?”  
“Chris doesn't know anything about Gerard's secret lair.”  
“Great! So I just had this completely uncalled-for conversation with Scott's ex for nothing.”  
Derek ignores him once more and turns right. Stiles follows him still complaining about this stupid move. 

When Derek has unlocked his motorbike and pushes it back to the main road, they are greeted by a sight that shuts Stiles up immediately.  
Jackson stops his motorcycle by the side of the road. Izabel sits behind him huddling close with her arms wrapped around Jackson's torso. She jumps off it and stores her helmet away. Jackson takes his own one off too and hangs it on the handle. Izabel stays close to the bike. They talk a little but Stiles can't pick out anything.  
Derek on the other hand, next to his unsuspecting partner, understands every word. 

~

“Maybe next time we can meet at your place.”, Izabel coyly bats her lashes at Jackson.  
He snickers and holds her gaze. “I would like that.”  
Then he leans in and places a hand on her hip drawing her closer. She grabs his arm so as not to crash into him.  
“You know I could take you down easily.”, Izabel says smiling.  
“I know.”  
Jackson tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingers on her cheek and he leans in to kiss her. Izabel's hand moves to his neck as she leans closer too. 

~

Derek grips his bike's handle so tightly that his knuckles turn white.  
“I'm gonna puke.”, Stiles jokes.  
He looks at his partner and notices his tense posture. He slowly places a hand on Derek's biceps.  
“You okay?”  
Derek looks at him briefly, then shakes Stiles' hand off. He mounts his bike.  
“Let's go!”  
“You want me to?”, Stiles takes a step back and shakes his head. “No way! I'm not riding that thing! Do you know how dangerous that is?”  
“Then don't.”  
Derek rolls his eyes and drives off.


	8. Gingerly - in a manner marked by extreme care or delicacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles annoys the hell out of Derek, has a panic attack and finds out about the supernatural.

“What are you doing here?”  
Derek blocks the door to his loft.   
“I need to talk to you!”  
“I never told you where I live.”  
“I'm an agent. I know stuff.”, Stiles pushes the door further open and steps past Derek.  
“Izzy told me.”, he adds when Derek raises his eyebrow at him.   
Stiles stops in the middle of the room and performs a volte-face. Derek's loft is fairly empty. It's one big room illuminated by the sun shining through a big window which takes up nearly all of one wall. Underneath it stands a king sized bed, the sheets sloppily folded. A chest of drawers leans against the footboard. On the opposite side of the room, next to the front door, are a kitchenette and a blue fridge. On the side of the room stand a desk and a couch. There's another smaller door, Stiles assumes it leads to the bathroom. All walls are empty, no photos or posters are hung up. The space seems too big for one person to live in all by himself. And too empty to feel homely.   
There's a case file lying open on the desk next to a steaming mug. It feels weird to imagine Derek doing something as domestic as drinking coffee and doing paper work.  
The door falls shut with a thud.   
“I made coffee.”  
Derek strides over to the couch and sits down.  
“I guess I'll pour myself a cup then.”  
Stiles bounces to the kitchen corner and starts to open all cabinets. Derek just leans back and watches him.

The werewolf has spent the last couple of days thinking about his life. Sitting in an office screening surveillance footage can do that to people.  
Derek has never been a man of big words. He keeps to himself. He sticks to what he knows and trusts no one. Not even himself. Especially himself.   
When he arrived in this town, he had just lost everything. That day he had locked away his heart in a wooden box and thrown away the key. He had erased his feelings. Numbness and pain had been keeping him constant company. Losing your entire family to a fire caused by the woman you thought loved you – only to find out that she had been using you to kill everyone you love – had broken him. In many ways.   
Derek had even revived memories of what had happened in London. Stiles' constant stream of questions had awoke his old doubts.   
Maybe it had been better the way it was back then. No Stiles, no Izabel. Nothing to worry about. Just a man on a mission.   
But then Stiles had cracked one of his stupid jokes and Derek had remembered what Izabel used to tell him.   
“There is more to life than pain and suffering, Der! You just have to fight for it! That's the difference between light and darkness. The shadows will always hunt you but the sun waits for you. You have to come and get it!”  
She had shared a lot of textbook wisdom with him all those nights. Derek knows that she had to remind herself of all these things as much as he needed to hear them.   
Both of them had been bruised and scarred when they arrived in Mr. Alexander's office for the first time. And after the quarrel with Theo they had reached a new low.  
Rock bottom for two, please!

Stiles flops down on the couch next to Derek. He places his cup next to the other one.  
“Why were you so agitated about Jackson and Izabel kissing? I thought you were gay?”, he asks nonchalantly. He had raised this topic a couple of times already but Derek had never reacted to any of it.  
“I don't know. I just hate his guts!”

Derek knows. He knows perfectly well why he had been seeing red that evening. He had even felt slightly bad for ditching Stiles like that but it had been too much. Even for him.  
Him and Izabel had never been in love. Sure, they loved each other but not in a romantic way.  
Derek knows that she is beautiful and he feels a deep affection for her. But she has become his little sister more than anything. Every day she reminds him so much of Cora it physically hurts.   
Which is exactly why he can't stand to see her with Jackson. He thinks poorly of the young Alpha and his gut tells him that he will only hurt Izabel. And that's something Derek won't allow.   
He has watched Izabel build herself up only to fall apart again. He knows that her happy and vibrant personality is a fragile front she keeps up. He has proudly watched her become the positive personage she created. But he knows first hand how quickly things can change.  
He himself is no different. When Izabel had figured out that he was gay (before he did himself), it had threatened to crush him. Derek had had to rediscover himself. Not only sexually.  
Another reason he felt obligated to protect and help Izzy, was the fact that she had been incredibly accepting and kind to him. She had never treated him differently, not for a single second. She had wanted to know everything about werewolves when he revealed himself to her. She had helped him when he had turned Isaac by accident. They only were a pack (however small) because of her.   
Izabel had even pretended to be his girlfriend when Peter had shown up and Derek couldn't bear to tell his uncle about his sexuality. They always had each other's back. 

“Hey Derek!”, Stiles snaps his fingers in front of Derek's face. “I'm talking to you.”  
“What?”  
“I said Jackson may be an ass but Lydia says there's a soft side to him.”  
“Great.”  
Stiles gets up and continues to talk about all the private details he pestered Lydia for.   
“What are you doing?”  
“I'm getting more coffee. This is great coffee by the way, very strong!”  
Derek shakes his head and picks up the case folder. He flicks through it and pulls a layout of the factory out.   
“Why do you make such strong, bitter coffee if you like yours sweet?!”  
“Is your main goal in life to annoy me to death?”  
“No, just into a mild coma.”  
Derek rolls his eyes. “Are you going to tell me what you're doing here soon?”  
“Izabel texted me. She's in!”  
Derek sits up straight. “In - as in part of the gang?!”  
“All I know is that Jackson took her to his lair.”, Stiles shrugs. “Oh, and she said something about that Theo guy. I think you guys should tell me what happened on that mission in London now. I might need that information. For solving this case, you know?!”  
“No you don't.”  
Stiles sighs exasperatedly. “Come on Derek! I need to know this stuff!”  
“Give me your phone.”  
“What? NO!”  
Derek holds out his hand and stares Stiles down. His partner pouts and drops his phone into the werewolf's hand.   
“What's your passcode?”, Derek demands.  
“33735”, Stiles mumbles into his cup.  
“Come again.”  
Stiles nearly spits his coffee across the room. He blushes and repeats the combination. His ears are flaming red but Derek doesn't seem to catch on. He's scrolling through Izabel's text messages.  
“How many times has she been out with that guy?”  
“Ten maybe.”, Stiles shrugs and slides the layout closer to himself. He watches his partner out of the corner of his eyes.   
Derek stays hunched over Stiles' phone for a while. When he starts scrolling again, Stiles lunges forward and pries the phone away from Derek.   
“That's enough!”   
Derek raises an eyebrow at his childish behaviour.  
“Why don't I know any of this?”  
“I don't know. Maybe because you never talk to people?!”  
“I talk.”  
“Yeah, like a stone.”

Stiles knows that Derek is a private person. But he also believes that he's not really the rude, edgy guy he pretends to be. There has to be more to drop-dead gorgeous Derek Hale than eyebrows and death stares.   
And even if he blames his anger on his hatred for Jackson, Stiles knows that Derek feels incredibly protective about Izabel and would react the same way if it had been some other guy. Somehow they have the most intimate relationship any two people can have without being romantically involved.   
If he didn't know Izabel, he would believe it improbable to defrost this giant iceberg next to him. But he's seen proof that Derek is actually capable of smiling.  
When he had been able to make him laugh the other night, something had blossomed in Stiles' heart. He didn't think it possible but his crush seemed to grow with every passing day.  
Being cooped up in a small office with his partner had been challenging. Derek had sat so close to him. Close enough that there had been accidental touching. Brushing knees, Derek leaning over to look at a screen, touching hands when they both reached for the keyboard at the same time.   
Every evening Stiles had gone back home with a sniff of Derek's after-shave and the faint feeling of his presence beside him. It was pathetic but it made him smile.   
He had learned to live for the small things. Derek smirking at his weird jokes (it was more of twitching in the corner of his mouth but that was enough for Stiles). Derek hitting or insulting him. Derek flexing his arms in an attempt to suppress his instinct to kill him. Derek rolling his eyes at him. Those green eyes...

“So, if she's on the inside now”, Stiles nods at the layout. “Maybe we could go back to the factory.”  
Derek is aggressively punching the buttons on his own mobile phone now.   
“Oh boy! What is that?”  
Stiles eyes the device in Derek's hands. It's old! Very old. The fact that it still has a keypad says it all.   
“A cellphone.”  
“No dude, I have a cell. That's an antiquity!”, he shakes his head disbelievingly. “I'm surprised that thing's working.”  
“It's not.”, Derek grunts frustratedly.  
“What are you trying to do anyway? Break it into pieces?”  
“I'm sending a text message.”  
“Might as well send a pigeon.”  
Derek reaches out with one hand and pushes Stiles off the couch. He doesn't avert his eyes from the small screen of his cellphone for one second. 

 

“This plan sucks.”  
“Do you say that as someone who hates me or as a highly trained special agent?”  
“I'm saying it as someone with common sense.”, Derek rolls his eyes.   
'And I don't hate you.', he thinks.  
“This is the only plan we have. And YOU - “, Stiles jabs his finger against Derek's chest. “had no part in the making of it. So I'd shut my mouth if I were you!”  
Derek raises an eyebrow at Stiles' cocky demeanour.   
“Not so tough now, are ya?”, Stiles is nervous beyond explanation. This is the first time him and Derek are out in the field alone since the kiss. Plus, he's about to enter some evil guy's lair which is always a reason to freak out. So he overcompensates by talking too much.   
His partner raises his eyebrow again and lifts his arm. Stiles jerks back thinking Derek is about to punch him (wouldn't be the first time). But the tall man only runs his hand through his hair. Luckily he doesn't notice Stiles flinching. 

 

“I can't believe that worked.”  
“I can! My plan's awesome!”, Stiles proclaims excitedly.   
His fog bomb had been the perfect distraction to get to the elevator in the back corner of the main hangar. They are now walking along a corridor in the basement of the factory.   
“Shut up!”  
Derek grabs Stiles by his collar and pulls him into a hallway to their right, pressing both of them flush against the wall. Stiles feels the muscles in his partner's arm flex against his chest as Derek holds him into place. Derek peeks around the corner and lets go of him, motioning for Stiles to follow him.  
They tip toe further on and dodge another one of the security guards by hiding in an empty cell.   
When they had gotten to the basement it had looked like any regular basement at first. But the further they pressed forward, the weirder things got.  
This corridor looks like a prison. They pass about thirty cells – only two of them holding prisoners, both of them asleep - before reaching another staircase, similar to the one they had come down after getting out of the elevator.   
“How deep is this basement?”  
Derek doesn't answer. His mind is racing. The wolf scent has become stronger with every step and he is certain of what they will find at the bottom of these stairs. They are definitely very deep underground. He can hear multiple werewolves whining and howling down there. And even his enhanced hearing hadn't picked up any of that up in the hangar.  
Why did he bring Stiles here? This was a bad idea – the worst! He can't find out about the supernatural.  
As Derek racks his brain, trying to come up with a reason for them to turn around and head back, footsteps approach them from the top of the stairs. Damn!  
“Someone's coming, hurry!”, Stiles urges him on.  
For a split second Derek considers fighting his way back out of the factory but he knows that's not really an option.   
They practically run down the last of the stairs and sprint along yet another long hallway. This one doesn't hold cells though.   
Cage after cage is filled with werewolves, all of them fully wolfed out. Their cages are dirty with blood and fecal matter. They all start crashing about as they catch sight of Derek.   
Stiles stops dead in his tracks. He backs off to the opposite wall and stays rooted to the spot, his mouth hanging wide open.  
“Stiles, come on! We have to hide!”  
Stiles shakes his head disbelievingly.  
“STILES!”  
The wolves are going absolutely mental now.  
“STILINSKI!”, Derek hisses.  
He can hear the guard complaining about the noise the “feral animals” are making. He's close now.   
Oh, for fuck's sake! The Alpha flashes his red eyes at them. Then he grabs Stiles' arm and drags him away. Derek tears open the next door they pass and pushes Stiles into the room closing the door behind them as quietly as possible.  
He presses his ear against it to listen for any signs of the guard coming after them.   
“What the fuck?”  
Stiles is running his hands through his hair agitatedly.   
“What was that? What are they?”  
Derek sighs before he turns around to face him.  
“We don't have time for this right now, Stiles! I'll explain later. Right now, we have to get out of here alive!”  
Stiles looks at him with wide eyes, his hands flailing around him as if they are trying to communicate everything his brain can't put into words. His mouth is hanging agape.   
Derek rolls his eyes and returns to eavesdropping at the door. The guards are busy trying to keep the wolves in check.  
He turns back around. “I think the coast is clear.”

Stiles sits crouched on the floor, hugging his legs. His forehead rests on his knees and his shoulders are quivering. He's breathing heavily. Derek notes that his heart beats extremely fast.   
“What's wrong with you?”  
Stiles doesn't answer.   
“What are you doing?”  
Still no answer. Derek knits his eyebrows in worry. He can smell some sort of fear on Stiles. He reeks of panic as well. It's a different smell than the one Derek remembers from Izabel's panic attacks but it's similar enough to make him feel slightly lost.   
He has never been good at comforting people. What the fuck is he supposed to do? Stiles needs to stay focused. They have to get out of here!  
Stiles is on his knees now clutching his chest tightly and breathing erratically. Derek hesitates but then he walks over to his partner and squats down in front of him.   
“Stiles, breathe!”  
Derek grips his shoulders firmly.   
“You need to keep it together, Stiles!”  
If all, Stiles' heartbeat speeds up even more. Derek takes Stiles' clenched hands in his.   
“Look at me! Stiles, look at me.”  
Stiles looks up, his lips are parted and his eyes opened wide. His breath hitches but his eyes don't leave Derek's face. Derek gingerly untangles Stiles' trembling fingers and intertwines them with his own.  
“I'm here! Just look at me! Concentrate on my face, on my voice. Breathe!”  
Unconsciously he inches closer to Stiles.  
“That's it. Breathe in! And out! In. Out.”  
Stiles is momentarily confused by Derek's closeness. But he never averts his gaze from the werewolf's eyes. He tries to do as he is told but his heart just won't stop going crazy.  
“Keep going! Just like that. Stop paying attention to everything else and focus on me!”  
After a minute Stiles' breathing slows down. His gaze drops down to their hands, still intertwined. Derek frees one of his hands to place it under his partner's chin. He forces his head back up and inspects his face with furrowed brows.   
“You good?”  
Stiles nods.   
“I..You...how are you so calm? What the hell where those...things?!”  
“Werewolves.”, Derek states flatly. His hand falls down into his lap.  
“Try to stay calm until we get out of here, okay?! I'll answer all your questions once we've made it out alive.”  
“But...”  
“Just keep it together!”  
“Okay, okay.”  
His partner lets go of Stiles completely who adds: “And you'll answer ALL of my questions?”  
“If you can ask them without the usual level of sarcasm.”  
“I can try.”, he raises a corner of his mouth in a weak attempt at happiness.  
Derek sighs relieved at the sight of Stiles' small smile. 

 

Stiles wanders around the room. He tries to focus on anything else but the images of what he saw on the other side of that door. Werewolves... figures. And of course Derek knows all about them.   
He pulls out his phone for some light. The room is actually pretty big and filled to the ceiling with neatly stacked metal boxes.   
“Hey Derek, these boxes look exactly like the ones Argent had at his house.”, he starts taking pictures. “But there weren't that many. I wonder what's inside.”  
He walks over to one of the smaller stacks and takes the top box down. It's padlocked.  
Stiles is about to put it back onto its pile when Derek takes the box from his hands and simply rips the padlock of.   
“Why not?”, Stiles mumbles to himself.  
The box is filled with small grenades.   
“What kind of operation is this? Chemical experiments, werewolves, weapons.”  
Derek starts to open more boxes. They all contain different weapons...most of them to hunt supernatural creatures, mainly werewolves. Some simply contain guns and bullets. Derek scatters the boxes all over the floor. Stiles takes pictures of everything, closes the lids again and stacks the boxes back up.  
“Do you think we can risk to go back out there?”  
“Not yet.”  
“It's been fifteen minutes.”  
“Not yet.”

Another fifteen minutes later Derek announces that the corridor outside is clear. They make a run for it and get to the cellar's exit without encountering anyone. The werewolf's senses do not disappoint.   
But of course, once the doors of the elevator open, one of the scientists spots them right away. All of the guards are standing up on the gallery, so they run. Miraculously none of the shots fired hits them and they make it to the exit safely. But the guards are hard on their heels.   
Outside there is nowhere to hide or take cover.  
Derek grunts. One of the guards has shot him in the leg after all. The two agents' lead shrinks by the second. Stiles had never been the fastest and Derek is limping now.   
“Run!”, Derek yells.  
“You're hurt! I'm not leaving you behind!”  
Derek stops and wolfs out.  
“RUN!”, he roars and turns towards their pursuers.   
Stiles runs. He runs and runs and even after climbing over the fence, he still runs. He runs without direction until he's got a stitch. With his hands in his hips he bends over and tries to catch his breath.   
When had this day gone down the pan?  
Their prime suspect is keeping a zoo of werewolves in a massive basement. And on top of that, his partner is a werewolf too! Great!   
Stiles sits down on the kerbside and rests his head in his hands, still breathing hard from running this far. He is close to having another panic attack. How much else did he not know about this case? 

A few minutes pass and he calms down a little. He has to find Derek! If the fangs that suddenly sprouted out of his mouth hadn't scared the shit out of Stiles, he wouldn't have abandoned him so quickly. He shakes his head. What a terrible partner he his!  
'Don't let him be dead!', he prays to no one in particular.   
A car rushes past him. Way past the speed limit.  
Stiles jumps up onto the pavement hastily as the car stops with squealing wheels and reverses, no slower than before. The car pulls up in front of him and the back door opens.   
“Get in!”, Derek says.   
Stiles complies and the driver starts speeding off before he even manages to shut the door properly.  
“I told you to wait behind the fence.”  
“No, you didn't.”, Stiles ogles Derek carefully. He is very pale and sweat covers his face. The rip in his jeans reveals an open wound and blood is soaking the fabric.   
“I did!”  
“Well, I didn't hear it. I was too distracted by your fangs and glowing eyes.”, Stiles gesticulates towards Derek face. “When were you going to tell me you're a werewolf?”  
“Never.”  
“What?!”  
Derek just raises an eyebrow.   
“But why? I mean...”  
“We don't reveal ourselves to humans. But they were going to kill us, so I had to act!”, Derek states and rips the hole in his jeans further open. Black lines proceed from his wound up and down his leg.   
“But you were shot! How did you....? There were six of them!”  
Derek shrugs like it's no big deal.  
“I'll heal.”  
With that being said, he digs his fingers into the bullet wound and twists the bullet out of it.   
“Gosh!”, Stiles has to turn away at the sight of his bloody hands.   
“Is he fainting?”, the curly headed driver asks.  
“I'm not fainting!”, Stiles replies scandalized.   
“Drive, Isaac!”  
Derek opens up the bullet and empties it's contents into his hand.   
“What the hell are you doing? You need to go to the hospital – or see Scott!”  
“This is a wolfsbane bullet, we have to cauterise the wound! If the poison reaches my heart, I'll die!”  
“WE?”, Stiles is not sure he likes where this is going.  
Derek pulls a lighter out of his pocket. He grabs Stiles' shoulder and drops the lighter into his lap.  
“You have to do it! I'm..”  
Before he can finish his whole body convulses and he throws up black ooze onto the middle seat (and Stiles' pants).  
“Holy God! What the hell is that?”  
“It's my body trying to heal itself.”  
“Looks like it's not doing a very good job at it.”, Stiles shudders with disgust.  
“Now! Do it now!”, Derek says and holds his palm out.   
Stiles lights the black powder which lights up like a sparkler. Derek takes a deep breath inhaling the blue smoke. Then he pushes the powder into his wound with his index finger.   
He screams in agony and writhes in his seat.  
Stiles watches with his mouth hanging open. The black lines retreat and the wound slowly closes.   
“Wow, that was awesome!”  
Derek gives him a piercing look which Stiles answers with a toothy grin.   
“So you can heal! That's good! What else can you do?”  
“We have heightened senses. We're stronger and way faster than humans!”, the driver answers.   
“Who the hell is he?”  
“That's Isaac. One of my betas.”  
“You're only one, you mean.”  
Derek growls at him.   
“If he's a beta... you're an Alpha?!”  
Derek nods. Stiles is impressed. Very! When he gets home, he's going to spend the night researching...


	9. Harbinger - a sign that shows something is going to happen soon, often something bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles finds out a little more about Theo - and Derek's past.

“Lycanthropy is the mythological ability or power of a human being to undergo transformation into a partially-lupine form that includes glowing eyes. Regarded as a rare occurrence, some werewolves obtain the ability to shift into an actual wolf. - Wow! Can you do that?”  
Stiles looks up from his laptop excitedly. He is sitting on the gym floor while Derek works out.   
“Aren't you supposed to finish the report?”  
“I already did! And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't research werewolves?!”  
Derek grunts and continues his workout. Stiles returns to his research but can't help glancing up from his screen every other minute. Derek is very distracting.   
'Along with shape shifting, all werewolves possess super-human strength, speed, agility, healing and heightened senses. Because the werewolf's powers are derived from the moon, the full moon will cause their abilities and emotions to be so heightened that many lose control of themselves, which can cause death and destruction if not handled properly.'   
“What's that supposed to mean? You're killing people?”, Stiles looks up at Derek horrified. “To death?!”  
“During a full moon we are at our strongest but it's also when we are the most unpredictable. Our animal instincts and aggression are at their peak. Every newly-turned werewolf needs to learn control – find an anchor that binds them to their humanity.”, Derek explains with a sigh.   
“Because they would kill people otherwise?!”  
“And because they could expose themselves to hunters.”  
“And what's an anchor?”  
Derek rolls his eyes and stops his pull-ups. “It can be anything: a person, an emotion, a mantra.”  
“And there are hunters, too?”  
Derek rolls his eyes once more.  
“Yes, there are hunters.”  
“Who hunt werewolves?”, Stiles presses.  
“They hunt supernatural creatures who harm humans. Usually.”  
He resumes his pull-ups and Stiles turns his attention back to the screen.  
'An Alpha is the leader of a pack of werewolves. It is the strongest, most powerful and so far the most lethal variety of werewolf. An Alpha's bite can transform a human into a werewolf. The bite usually has two outcomes – transformation or death. Alphas have limited telepathy and mental control over the betas that they create. Bites, scratches and other wounds inflicted by an Alpha will not heal as quickly as other injuries. A Beta or Omega can become an Alpha by killing one.'  
How many more pull-ups was Derek going to do? Stiles can't avert his eyes. It is not very difficult to imagine Derek as a powerful Alpha. Stiles is inspired with awe. He feels like he can finally see the whole picture.  
This explains why Derek is always ordering him around. It doesn't make Stiles feel any less small around him but at least it all makes more sense now.   
How he knew exactly when the coast was clear (enhanced hearing) and why he had hated Jackson so much without even knowing him. Stiles still can't believe that Jackson is a werewolf, let alone an Alpha.   
'An Omega is the 'lone wolf', existing without a pack and an Alpha. They are considered weaker than other types because they are not part of a pack. Betas are members of a pack and, because of this association, they are considered stronger than Omegas.'  
Derek has moved on to push-ups now and Stiles admires his back muscles. Something inside him starts to stir. Oh no, no no no! He tries to focus on the words in front of him but it's no use. His body acts of it's own accord. Stiles covers the growing bulge in his pants with his laptop.   
“So the only way to become a werewolf is to be bitten by an Alpha?”  
Derek shakes his head at Stiles' persistence.   
“You are either born a werewolf or turned by an Alpha. There's also this myth about -”  
“Drinking rainwater from the paw print of a wolf. Yeah, I read about that!”, Stiles interrupts him.  
His phone buzzes and makes him jump. A text from Izabel.  
“Izzy found the boxes at Jackson's place.”  
Derek stops mid- movement and turns his head towards his partner. “What's in them?”  
He gets up and walks over to Stiles who nervously adjusts the laptop on his lap.   
“Pretty much the same stuff we found in the factory. Those weird grenades...”  
“Flash bombs. “, Derek clarifies. “They momentarily blind werewolves.”  
“Okay, flash bombs it is. Then we have those emitters, trip wires and tasers. Also tons and tons of bullets and shotguns.”, Stiles lists. “Are those wolfsbane bullets?”, he asks curiously.  
“Probably.”  
“What does Jackson need werewolf hunter weapons for anyway?”  
“That's what Izzy is supposed to find out.”  
Stiles lets out a breath of relief when Derek moves away from him again. This could have gotten awkward. His phone buzzes again.   
“Meeting at your place. 8pm. Tell Derek to bring Isaac.”, Stiles reads out loud.   
“Good. Now let's see what you've got.”  
“What?”  
“Get up and fight.”  
“Again. WHAT?”  
“I want to see what you've learned so far. If we're going to do this I need to know what I'm working with.”  
“Does this mean I'm now an official member of the team? Supernatural Squad?”  
Derek rolls his eyes.   
“Shut up!”

Stiles opens the door with his elbow. He's balancing three open books in his hands and doesn't even cast a glance at the two werewolves standing in the hallway.  
“She's not here yet.”, he says over his shoulder.  
Isaac looks at Derek questioningly but his Alpha just follows Stiles inside.  
The human walks back into his living room and sets the books down onto the coffee table. Then he returns to a huge whiteboard that occupies nearly an entire wall. There are pictures of Jackson and Gerard hung up, various words written in capital letters – some of them encircled. Theo's name is underlined four times. Red strings connect the different keywords in a tangle.   
“What is that?”, Isaac falls into an armchair and drapes his legs over the armrest.  
“A display board.”  
Derek steps up to Stiles, his arms crossed. He nods at the notes under Theo's name.  
“He is a werewolf.”  
Stiles erases the question mark next to the 'werewolf' written under Theo's name.   
“Do you know if he's an Alpha too?”  
“He wasn't the last time I met him. But we can't be sure at this point.”  
“Seems like you guys know nothing for certain.”, Isaac remarks.  
“What is the point of him?”, Stiles jabs his pen in Isaac's direction.   
“He's here because I haven't seen him in a while.”, Izabel shouts from the hallway. “You should lock your door, Stiles.”  
Mickey runs into the room.  
“Hey buddy, how have you been?”, Isaac reaches out to pet him but the dog ignores him and heads straight for Derek who hides a grin and bends down to cuddle the husky.  
“Don't mind him. Mikey is obsessed with Derek.”  
Izabel laughs at Isaac's offended expression as she follows her dog into the living space and ruffles the beta's hair. Then she hugs Derek tightly and surprises Stiles by engulfing him in a tight hug as well.   
“I've missed you idiots.”, she smiles and sits down on the floor next to her dog cross-legged.  
“Well, I'm surprised you're new Alpha turned you loose.”  
“Oh, shut up Isaac. I've been home lots of times. I have a dog – remember?!”, she plays with Mikey's ears. “But I had a feeling Jackson had someone follow me, so I didn't want to risk going into the office.”  
“And now he trusts you?”, Stiles sounds sceptical.  
“Not entirely. But I think his guys are tired of spying on me after nearly two months.”  
“Fair point.”  
“Two months? Wow, you guys really are slow.”  
“Not helping Isaac”, Stiles rolls his eyes.  
“He's kinda right. What did I miss? Except from Stiles finding out about the whole werewolf thing?”  
“I haven't found out anything to be honest. Mr. Sourwolf won't tell me anything.”, Stiles crosses his arms. “I haven't even seen that wolf-face of his properly.”  
Izabel raises an eyebrow at Derek who lets out a curbed growl.  
“He already knows.”, she shrugs.  
Derek stares at her in disbelief for a moment but then he turns to Stiles.  
His eyes change from green to red, he grows pointy ears, mutton chops and a ridged brow. He lifts his left hand in front of Stiles' face and his claws appear only inches from Stiles' nose. His partner jerks back but then leans forward squinting his eyes at Derek's fangs. They're long enough to make it impossible for the Alpha to properly close his mouth.   
Stiles raises one hand to the side of Derek's face and traces the raised lines on it abstractedly. Derek's whole body tenses up but when Stiles say nothing and just lightly ghosts his fingers across his skin, the werewolf relaxes and slowly transforms back to normal. Stiles retracts his hand.   
Isaac coughs nonchalantly.   
“Now that we've put the romance out of the way, how about you answer Izabel's question?!”  
“Isaac!”, Derek and Izabel hiss at him in unison.   
“What?”, he raises his hands in defence.  
They ignore him and Stiles briefly summarizes their time scanning security footage and observing Gerard, the meetings with Mr. Alexander and their findings from last night.   
“That explains the raids Jackson sends his pack on.”, Izabel contemplates. “They're catching and delivering werewolves to Gerard. He must be conducting some sort of experiments on them.”  
“Yeah, that's probably what those weird chemicals are for.”, Stiles guesses.  
“But what does he need so many werewolves for?”  
The three men look at Izabel expectantly.  
“Don't look at me like that! I have no idea. And to be honest, I think neither does Jackson.”  
“Yeah sure.”, Stiles snorts.  
“He delivers the werewolves to Gerard and in return he receives those boxes. He has a whole garage filled to the brim with weapons.”  
“What does he need them for?”, Derek asks.  
“Jackson claims that Theo wants to take his pack and territory from him. He says it's protection.”  
“Woah woah woah, hold on. What?”, Stiles looks from Derek to Izabel and back. He hopes that they might finally cave in and tell him more about that Theo Raeken dude.   
“According to Jackson Theo is still a beta. Apparently the others are questioning his abilities to lead them. Which is why he wants to kill Jackson, take his Alpha powers and become a real pack leader once and for all.”, Izabel explains.   
“He would be incredibly powerful.”, Isaac remarks.  
“Yeah... Jackson has eight betas and from what I've heard Theo's gang is almost equally big.”  
“He would gain more than red eyes and a bigger territory...”, Derek sounds thoughtful.   
“Great, and you have me – and two humans.”, Isaac says with a snide tone that earns him a stern look from Derek.  
“And again with the not helping!”, Stiles rolls his eyes. “I don't think we should believe a single word that comes out of Jackson's mouth.”  
“Me neither.”, admits Izabel. “Which is why you guys need to find the Gringos and see if there's even a single jot of truth in it. And I'm going to try and be a part of their next werewolf hunt.”

They spent another hour plotting their next move. Stiles occasionally scribbles on his display board.  
When he disappears to go to the bathroom, Derek doesn't waste any time.  
“Are you sure you want us to go looking for Theo?”, he asks Izabel.  
“You have to.”  
“I thought we hated that guy! If we can find skeletons in his closet that's good, isn't it?”, Isaac interjects.   
Izabel's lips are pressed together to create a thin line.   
“Do what you need to do. He blew his chance.”  
“Are you two ever going to stop speaking in riddles?”  
“Shut up!”, Derek mouths at Isaac.  
“Isaac's right. If he is up to something, we have to stop him.”  
Derek stares at his friend thoughtfully.  
“Who needs to be stopped?”, Stiles asks as he bounces back into the room.   
“Theo.”, Isaac states.   
“So you know about him too?”  
Isaac nods and shrugs simultaneously. Stiles huffs.   
“I don't understand why you guys won't tell me anything about that stupid case.”, Stiles crosses his arms and pouts at Derek.  
He looks adorable.  
“Maybe they won't tell you because they think you can't handle such dire threats.”, Isaac sounds casual but Stiles' mind is going crazy. What the hell could have possibly happened?!  
“What is that supposed to mean?!”, he wrinkles his forehead.   
“I'm just saying”, Isaac holds up his hands in defeat as he glances at Derek's angry face. “You don't look like the type who has a lot of experience with drugs.”  
Derek rolls his eyes.   
“Shut your hole, Isaac!”, Izabel gives him a frosty look. “You make it sound like we were drug addicts.”  
She sighs and shoots Derek a questioning look. But the werewolf shakes his head. They can't tell Stiles – not yet.   
He knows they need to. At some point Stiles has to know how dangerous Theo Raeken really is. But some selfish part of him doesn't feel ready to reveal the story and all his secrets that are irrevocably bound to it.   
He doesn't want his partner to see him like that. To know all these things about him and look at him the same way the company's psychiatrist had looked at Derek during his first (and last) session. It had been the worst idea Mr. Alexander had ever had. Naturally Derek had never seen a shrink again. He doesn't need anyone's consolation or support. And he definitely doesn't need their pity!  
Or the way everyone had looked at him - like he was broken.  
Which probably only bothers him because deep down he knows that it's true.   
“We should tell him, Derek. He needs to know what he's dealing with!”, Izabel speaks up.  
She doesn't avert her gaze and stares at her friend as if trying to tell him something else. They look at each other for a while, silent.  
Stiles starts to ramble: “Yeah. You should. You definitely should. For safety reasons. Obviously. And because we're a team. A pretty good one – if I may say so myself. We could be even greater. You need to learn to trust people, Derek. If I know stuff we can work together better. I think we've really grown. As a team, I mean. Of course. What else would be growing here? Right? I mean...”  
“Holy hell! Tell him!”, Isaac blurts out. “Please. Or he will never shut up again.”  
“YES!”, Stiles shouts out, pointing a finger at Isaac. “He's right! He is right! I won't shut up – ever again! And you hate that! You hate that so much, Derek! I know you hate it! I can talk forever. About anything. Absolutely anything. I swear. Did you know that...”  
“Fine.”, Derek grunts.  
He sounds as if someone is sucking all life from him.   
“Tell him what you want.”, he gets up but Izabel stares him down.  
“You're telling him! I need to get back to the den.”  
“The den?!”, Isaac bursts out laughing. “Seriously?! Could they be any more cliché?”  
Izabel flips him off.  
“You're coming with me! I need your werewolf muscles.”  
She turns to face Stiles: “Derek will tell you.”  
Turning her head to look at the Alpha, she adds: “He'll tell you everything you NEED to know.”  
Stiles nods but is left wondering if she's actually urging Derek to tell him or if she's trying to communicate something else. Maybe something along the lines of keeping certain details to himself and leaving Stiles in the dark. Maybe Derek is only supposed to tell him enough to shut Stiles up. The latter seems more likely.   
But he doesn't really care at this point. He has been bugging Derek about this case for ages and the werewolf had ignored him every time.   
This is still a victory, however small, he tells himself. One step at a time, Stiles.  
He has a master plan to gain Derek's trust and prove himself as a partner. It's not a very elaborate one but it's a plan. And if one of it's stages gets him to kiss the brooding man next to him again … well, he's not opposed to that either.  
Meanwhile, Derek struggles to stay calm. He is very aware of Isaac's presence. His beta won't be here to tell if he's lying. Which is why Derek is thankful Izabel is recruiting him for some stupid job. But Isaac can definitely tell that his Alpha is nervous about this.   
He calms his heartbeat as well as he can and fixates his gaze on Stiles.  
“I'm going to tell this story exactly one time and you're not going to interrupt me. Understood?”  
Stiles nods eagerly.  
“Well, it's been lovely as always fuckers!”, Izabel winks at Stiles.   
Then she drags Isaac away.

“The Gringos have been terrorising the east side for decades now. They started as local drug dealers and mostly lived in the underground tunnels.  
Three years ago mysterious deaths were reported all over town. The police suspected gang activities. All bodies found showed signs of mercury poisoning. The agency believed that drugs were involved.”  
Stiles opens his mouth to protest.  
Derek raises an eyebrow at him, annoyed already. Stiles shuts his mouth.   
“Modified drugs.”  
Stiles huffs. He opens his mouth again as if to say something but closes it right away.   
“Izabel and I were sent to infiltrate the gang and investigate undercover independently from each other. I guess Mr. Alexander wanted to test us.”, he shrugs.  
“It looked like they were actually dealing drugs. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary. A pack straying from the right and narrow. Some of them smelled a little funny but I blamed that on the fact that they were living in the sewers. It was Izabel who figured them out.  
She saw right through me as well.”  
“Yeah, you're like the least inconspicuous person.”  
Derek raises both eyebrows, giving Stiles a poignant look. Stiles pretends to zip his lips up. For a second that movement distracts the werewolf.  
“I should have realized that she didn't really belong to the pack. She was the only human. But then again, I should have realized a lot of things a lot sooner...”  
Derek is lost in thought for a moment. He's looking at Stiles but his mind is somewhere entirely different. After a while Stiles lays a hand on Derek's knee.   
“Derek? You okay?”  
Derek snaps out of it and shakes his head lightly. He doesn't answer Stiles' question and continues the story.  
“Theo always called himself their Alpha. But he never was one. Just like his pack didn't consist of regular werewolves. All these kids were chimeras.”  
“Chimeras?!”  
This time Derek doesn't shut his partner up.  
“They don't abide by the rules of the supernatural world. Because they aren't supernatural. They're neither born supernatural nor bitten. They were created. By a group of batshit crazy scientists who made supernatural creatures with non-supernatural means. They blurred the lines between science and the supernatural as I knew it. They specifically chose human teenagers with genetic chimerism.”  
“What? How?”  
Stiles is hanging onto every word now. Derek sounds like a madmen to him.   
“I guess they checked their medical records. Everyone who's had an organ or tissue transplant carries two sets of DNA.”, he shrugs.  
“They abducted them and used some form of modified mercury to turn them. Into all sorts of beings.   
Theo, for instance, is both a werewolf and a werecoyote. There was a werewolf-werejaguar, a werewolf-kanima, a wendigo, a werewolf-scorpion and some chameleon guy.”  
Stiles mouth is hanging wide open now.   
“Theo was working with these “doctors”, as they called themselves. They promised him a pack and the power of an Alpha. He would disappear for days, handling things for them. And sometimes one of the chimeras started to cough up mercury. Which apparently was a sign of failure. They were experiments gone wrong, most of them at least.”  
“So they died?”  
Derek nods.  
“We only fully comprehended the true scale of this scheme when Theo went to London. He was sent to retrieve a body from some historic graveyard in France. I still don't understand why he would go to London first but...anyway.   
At that point we knew we had to stop him. Whatever the Dread Doctors were planning to do with some dead guy, we didn't want to find out. But we were too late.  
Somehow the doctors had come to know that Theo wanted to betray them and beat him to the graveside. They resurrected the perfect beast, a most vicious werewolf who's only instinct was to kill. Using his bones, they concocted a chimera that was human during the day and manifested the beast at night.”  
“What the fuck?”, Stiles mutters under his breath.  
“Theo had planned to kill the beast and take his enormous power. But the doctors surprised us. They sent the beast to kill us all.”  
Derek leans back.  
“That's it? That can't be the end of the story. Obviously it didn't kill you.”  
“No, it didn't. We fought. Half of the chimeras died. We killed the beast. I killed the doctors.”  
“And what about Theo?”  
“He took what was left of his pack and ran.”  
“But...I mean, what the hell?! You're a werewolf. Isaac's a werewolf. Jackson is a fucking werewolf. That Theo guy is a freaking chimera. Some scientist dudes resurrected a killer that tried to kill you before you killed him.”  
Stiles heartbeat accelerates, he gets up from the couch and agitatedly starts pacing. Derek doesn't say another word and simply watches him.  
“This is nuts. Crazy. Insane. You're not telling me everything. I mean, this doesn't make any sense. What...How...No. I can't believe...”  
He stops in his tracks and leans over.   
Derek catches a whiff of panic. Stiles heartbeat goes through the roof and his breathing is frantic.  
“Not again.”  
The werewolf jumps up and lays his hands on Stiles' shoulders.   
“Breathe Stiles. Try and slow your breathing.”  
“I ca – I can't.”  
Stiles is clutching one hand to his chest. Derek takes his face into his hands. Why is this always happening when the two of them are alone?!  
“Shh! Stiles, look at me.”, Derek forces Stiles to lift his head and meet his gaze. “Look at me. Shh, Stiles.”  
Nothing seems to help. The chemo-signals radiating off Stiles are still stinging his nose and Derek is starting to panic too.   
He leans in.

And kisses Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry it has taken me so long to upload this. Exam season is right around the corner but after that I'll upload more frequently. Promise!   
> And there will be a lot of fluff in the next few chapters ;) So hang tight guys!!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. all info on werewolves and chimera can be found on Teen Wolf Wiki 
> 
>  
> 
> Cheers babes, xx


	10. Injury - harm done to a person's or animal's body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our boys finally get their shit together (kinda) and find Theo.

“What are you doing?”  
Stiles looks at Derek like a deer caught in the headlights. His face is still resting in Derek's hands.  
“Kissing you.”  
“Yeah.”  
If his heart wasn't beating at the speed of light and his skin didn't tingle under Derek's touch, Stiles would roll his eyes right now.  
“Why?”  
“To shut you up.”  
Derek shrugs and lets go of Stiles' face. The loss of his touch leaves Stiles shivering.   
He could be thinking about the fact that this is the second time in one week he has had a panic attack in front of Derek. Or that, weirdly enough, the panic's gone. Or...Stiles could be thinking about Derek FUCKING Hale kissing him. For all of 20 seconds.  
And him, Stiles DUMBASS Stilinski, not kissing him back.   
Why the hell did he not kiss him back?!  
Had it been the surprise? Or the confusion?   
Probably both.   
This is their second kiss. Although Stiles doesn't have a lot of romantic experience, this is by far the least romantic thing he has ever heard of. He's pretty sure that he has had deeper conversations with some of the dudes he hooked up with in college than he's ever had with Derek.   
The guy doesn't even like him all that much.  
But then, Derek HAD kissed him...  
“Stiles!”  
Derek snaps his fingers in front of Stiles' face.   
“You okay?”  
“Huh.”  
“What happened? You already knew about the supernatural.”  
“I don't know, sometimes it just happens. There's no rules to it.”  
Derek mumbles, “Well, that sucks!”  
'You kissing me really helped though,' Stiles thinks.  
He rolls his eyes because the only other viable reaction would be to leap into Derek's arms and kiss him senseless. Which, to be honest is not really an option at this point.  
He sits down on the couch again, hands on his knees and tries to slow his thoughts.   
Derek sits down next to him.  
“Are you sure you're alright? You smell funny.”  
“It's the anxiety. You should be used to it by now.” 

Derek knows that it isn't fair to ask Stiles about his panic attacks. He didn't want to tell him about his own mental problems so why on earth should Stiles tell him anything that personal?   
But he doesn't know what else to say.  
He could finally man up and address what had just happened. What had happened in the last months.   
Because it has been driving him crazy. Stiles has been driving him crazy...  
Every day they had spent in that minuscule office together had confused the Alpha more. Derek is pretty sure that the whole situation is his fault. He has been ignoring and neglecting his feelings for weeks now. This whole thing was bound to explode in his face at some point. He simply didn't expect it to be this soon.  
Hell, he doesn't even remember when he realized he was falling in love with his skinny, clumsy partner. Some day Stiles had cracked one of his stupid lowbrow jokes and Derek had wordlessly stared at him. It had been as if he was laying eyes on the sarcastic kid for the first time. As if he had never seen the pale skin, ski-jump nose and mole dotted cheeks, the long fingers and sinewy forearms.   
How did he not notice how attractive Stiles was until then? And why did it take him two more weeks to admit it.   
All of these questions had been sitting in the back of Derek's mind like patients in a doctor's waiting room. Tugged away and ignored, they silently grew stronger. And the harder Derek tried to not think about them, the louder they shouted at him.   
Maybe it had been the sharp smell of arousal on Stiles this morning. Maybe it had been the way he had stared at Derek, practically undressing him with his eyes. Or maybe it's just...him. Maybe Derek is in way over his head. 

“So, what are we going to do about Theo now?”  
During Derek's mental war Stiles has managed to pull himself together. At least a little.  
“What?”   
Derek looks at him, he seems almost confused. Maybe even a little hurt.   
“Theo. The Gringos. You know...our case.”  
Derek nods slowly.   
“I think we should pay Lydia a visit and check if she's got any news on their whereabouts. Or we could just cross the river and see what happens.”  
Again Derek simply nods.  
“That was a question of either/or. You have to choose!”  
Stiles gets up and starts walking up and down in front of the couch.  
“Personally, I'd love to get out of here.”  
He's mumbling to himself. Not used to the fact that his partner has supernatural hearing, he has forgotten that Derek can hear him anyway.  
“Then let's go,” Derek says with a stern face.  
“No. I mean, I didn't...I didn't mean it like that. AHH!”   
Stiles rakes his hands through his hair in frustration.  
“I really...I don't...”  
Derek interrupts him, “It's okay. I get it.”  
“No, you don't! I …,” he pauses and looks at Derek helplessly. Lost for words Stiles opens and closes his mouth several times without knowing what to say.   
He doesn't want Derek to get a wrong impression. He can practically feel them standing on the edge of the knife. He wants to do this right.   
Because even though Derek is infuriating and sometimes straight up mean, Stiles wants this. He wants to kiss Derek again. He wants to feel Derek's arms around him and he wants...he wants Derek.   
“I...” he starts again. “I..” and stops again.  
“You want me to leave,” Derek states.  
“No. Gosh, you're such a dumbass.”  
Derek is now standing only two feet away from his partner. He's clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation. 'Say something, Derek,' he can hear Izabel's voice in his head.   
“And you're annoying. And distracting...I'm not sure if I want to kill you or fuck you.”  
“Whaaa-”  
Derek looks like he wants to punch himself in the face. Did he really just say that out loud. When did he become the impulsive one?  
Stiles recovers quickly. With a smirk he says, “I'd definitely prefer the fucking part.”  
Derek looks up at him.  
“Look, I didn't mean to take advantage of you or anything. I just...I'm not really good at this whole emotion thing. I don't know how to handle panic attacks. It took me a year to figure out why Izabel freaks out about fireworks and I was there when...nevermind. What I'm trying to say is: I am sorry.”  
“You're pretty cute when you're nice,” Stiles smiles.  
He completely ignores the fact that whatever Derek's trying to say doesn't make any sense. Instead he chooses to revel in the fact that his partner is visibly uncomfortable with this conversation.  
Derek is dumbfounded. But he recovers quickly. Banter – that he can work with.   
“What am I when I'm not nice?”  
“Hot as fuck,” Stiles says and blushes.  
Which is something new. And so adorable that Derek simply has to close the space between them.   
“Now you're being cute,” he whispers before he connects his lips with Stiles'.  
Stiles sighs into the kiss and he can feel Derek smiling at that. He moves his hands to the nape of Derek's neck and leans into him.   
The kiss is soft and gentle. Slow and careful. Like they're exploring enemy territory.   
When they break apart, Derek's hands have found their way to Stiles' hips.  
They stay like this.   
Hands slung around each other.  
Lips red and their breath slightly uneven.   
Derek inhales Stiles' scent and smiles.   
“Wow,” Stiles speaks quietly, as if he could ruin the moment by speaking up. “I think this is the first time I've seen you smile.”  
“Shut up,” Derek says. Still smiling.

 

“The Argents are everywhere, dude. This is insane. Werewolf hunters.”  
Lydia hadn't been able to find Theo's lair. For the last hour Stiles and Derek have been following clues up. At some point chasing rumours and could-be's had simply been too frustrating.   
It hadn't taken Stiles long to convince Derek to pull into the next drive-thru.  
Now they are sitting in Stiles' jeep. Parked behind an old warehouse Stiles is typing away on his cellphone, not averting his eyes from the screen as he talks to Derek.  
“This beast thing was killed by an Argent. Apparently the first one who hunted.”  
“Would you just let it go already?! That thing is dead.”  
“Yeah, well,” Stiles stuffs the last handful of fries in his mouth. “Theo isn't.”  
“We'll find him.”  
“I hate to break it to you but we've been running around like headless chicken all day and there's literally no trace of him anywhere.”  
Derek shakes his head and exits the car. He slams the door shut a little too forcefully.  
“Hey, watch it!”  
Stiles rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away.   
“He didn't mean it!” he mumbles and pats the steering wheel.  
Jumping out of the car, he nearly falls over and drops his keys. Swearing he bends down to pick them up.   
When Stiles bobs up again, Derek is standing in front of him with an amused grin plastered across his stupid face.   
More like stupidly beautiful, Stiles thinks. His heart skips several beats at once.  
Ever since Derek had kissed him last night he can't stop himself from thinking about all those small details that make Derek so incredibly handsome. This morning he had felt a little weird meeting up with him at the office. Their goodbye just hours earlier had been extremely awkward. But the way his partner kept casually touching him made Stiles' stomach flutter in anticipation.   
The whole day Derek has occasionally brushed his hand across Stiles neck or squeezed his shoulder. It had send shivers down Stiles' spine every time.  
Thinking about it he steps closer to Derek and looks at him with slightly parted lips.   
“What are we going to do now?”  
Derek grabs his wrist and stares back for a long moment, eyes searching Stiles' face. His fingers loosen like he's waiting for Stiles to pull away. Stiles doesn't, and he soon finds himself crowded against the hood of his jeep.  
He frees his wrist and cups Derek's face, pulling him closer. Each second of their kiss is slow and aching. And everything Stiles has been waiting for.   
His fingers scrape against two-day stubble as his lips part, pushing and nipping with increased fervour. He feels overwhelmed at the thought that this is something he can now have.  
Everyday. All day.  
Derek is racking his fingernails across Stiles' skull, his tongue flicking out and licking at his top lip begging for entrance.   
Stiles' hands trace their way down Derek's neck, his back and to the hem of his shirt.  
But suddenly Derek pulls away.   
“What?”  
Stiles feels a sense of panic well up inside of him.  
“What's wrong?”  
Derek shifts his hand, sliding it down Stiles' arm, lacing their fingers together.   
“I think I..”  
“We can totally take it slow, dude. No problemo,” Stiles interrupts him.  
“We just... got together yesterday - “  
“He's here,” this time it's Derek's turn to interrupt.  
“Theo?” Stiles mouths silently.  
Derek nods. “And I think we've been together for a while. Even if we didn't realize it - “  
Stiles opens his mouth but Derek covers it with one hand. He taps against his ear with the other.   
Stiles nods. If Theo is close enough for Derek to hear him, then he can hear them as well.  
But what the fuck is he talking about?  
While Derek uses his superhearing to eavesdrop on whatever is going on, Stiles examines his partner's face. Now that he thinks about it, the weird touching had started way before today. In fact, it had started after Izabel had set them up for dinner. The day they went to Gerard's factory. The day he had found out about werewolves...

~

“She is doing WHAT?!”  
Theo takes a step towards his beta.  
“Izabel asked to be part of their next hunt.”  
“Seriously Ashton, is it that hard to obey an order?!”   
Theo strangles his pack member lifting him up by his throat.   
“He refused,” the blonde chokes.  
Theo sets him down.   
“He told her she wasn't ready yet. Something about not being evolved enough.”  
He rubs his throat but the red marks are already gone. Healed.   
Theo watches him. Ashton is telling the truth. Still, the chimera's blood is boiling.   
Last week Jackson's henchmen had captured Tracy. He can't loose any more of them. The pack is already too small as it is. And his eyes -  
“Did you at least find out when they're striking next?”  
“Soon!”   
“Alright,” he sighs. “We should get moving then.”  
“Maybe you should just talk to the chick.”  
Theo gives Zach a condescending look. But before he can answer, a low growl behind them has the three men jump in surprise.  
“For a couple of werewolves you guys are pretty deaf.”  
The next second Theo is the one dangling one foot in the air, Derek Hale's fist curled around his throat.  
Ashton and Zach bare their teeth.   
“Don't move or I'll shoot!”  
Stiles raises his weapon.  
“Your bullets don't work on us, idiot!”  
“Oh but those are no ordinary bullets, dude! I have magical hunter bullets that will make you feel pain unlike anything you've ever felt!” Stiles smirks at them triumphantly. “And now step back!”  
“You took them?”   
Stiles shrugs at his partner. “The whole room was full of that stuff. They won't notice.”  
Derek rolls his eyes.   
“What do you want from Izabel?” he gnarls at Theo who is trying to pry Derek's fingers away from his neck.  
In that moment someone breaks down the back door. The warehouse is suddenly filled with angry snarls. Stiles swirls around to see six werewolves storm into the hall. Fully wolfed-out they are a mess of yellow eyes, furry ears and claws.  
Theo's betas barge past Stiles.   
Derek doesn't even flinch at the noise of the fight that transpires behind him. He shoves Theo against the wall.  
“What do you want?” he repeats, scarily quiet and calm.  
But Theo only continues to kick at him.   
“Alright. If you don't wanna talk, listen up asshole! Stay away from her!”  
He shoves Theo against the wall one more time, then lets go of him.  
The chimera slides down to the ground.   
“Or what?” he asks, a sly smile dancing on his lips.  
Derek punches him right in the face.   
“Or I'll kill you,” he says matter-of-factly. 

Stiles doesn't know how he got himself into this. When Derek finally told him in a whisper what he was able to hear, Stiles had suggested they should take a closer look. Get an idea of what was really going on.  
He had only wanted to hear some things for himself. Relying on Derek's werewolf senses still feels dubious. He hadn't planned to get this close to the action.  
Beside him, two werewolves are trying to wrestle one of Theo's betas to the ground. The other one is backing up against the wall surrounded by three more wolves. Large stingers have grown on the backs of his arms and over his shoulder Stiles spots a tail.  
'Definitely not a werewolf,' he thinks.   
The last one of the attackers is facing him. With a menacing grin he walks towards Stiles, baring his teeth. Stiles hesitates. He has never fought a werewolf.   
Before he can come up with any kind of strategy, the wolf jumps at him and gives him a black eye.   
Stiles stumbles backwards but gains his balance quickly. He dodges the next blow. And fires his gun. The first bullet whistles past the werewolves ear. The second one hits him in the shoulder. He grabs at his shoulder and growls at Stiles. With inhuman speed he closes the gap between them. Digging his claws into Stiles' chest, he raises his arm to throw another punch.   
Suddenly a deep growl resounds behind them. Over the werewolf's shoulder Stiles can see Derek charging at them. His attacker sends the human flying against a banister.   
The force of it knocks the air from Stiles' lungs. His head bashes against the metal ledge of the banister. The last thing he hears is a crash and the sound of a heavy body hitting up against concrete repeatedly. Then he loses consciousness.


	11. Jeopardize - to risk harming or destroying something/somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fluff and something not so fluffy

There's blood everywhere.  
Especially on Stiles' head.  
It looks bad. Really bad!  
Derek gently places him on the passenger seat. At least he's still breathing.   
Entering the jeep the werewolf quickly jams the keys into the ignition and utters a silent prayer, hoping Stiles' piece of trash car doesn't die on him now.  
It does.  
Derek slams his fist against the steering wheel. Angrily he tries to start the engine a second time. On the fourth attempt the car finally starts up.   
With a worried glance at Stiles, Derek puts the car into first gear and dials Izabel's number with his free hand. He cradles his mobile phone between his shoulder and ear and speeds off.   
With each turn he puts between them and the warehouse the tension in his shoulders eases off. The knot of fear in his throat doesn't.   
Izabel picks up on the fifth ring.  
She whispers, “Now is a really bad time.”  
“Stiles is hurt!” Derek blurts out. He checks the rear-view mirror but nobody is following them. “He's unconscious and there is SO much blood and...”  
Before he can finish, Izabel speaks up. “Where are you right now?”  
“Somewhere on the west side.”  
“Take him to your apartment. I'll be right there.”  
She hangs up.   
And Derek puts his foot down. He runs several red lights. The Alpha doesn't take his eyes off the road, he can't bear to look at Stiles.  
His wolf however can't help but notice every detail about the human beside him. The metallic scent of his blood is overwhelming and his breathing has become crushingly shallow.   
He is hurt because of him. If Derek hadn't lost his temper...  
He has to fix this.  
As they reach the other side of the river, Stiles starts to stir in his seat. A pained moan escapes his lips.   
“Try not to move, we're almost there.”  
Derek quickly glances over at his partner. Stiles is conscious again, half lying half sitting he stares at his wounds.   
“What the hell happened?”  
“You hit your head.”  
“I don't...” He tries to sit up straight but gives a wince of pain and stops immediately.  
“Hold still, Stiles!”

The twenty minute drive only takes ten this time. In a mad rush, Derek parks the jeep and carries Stiles upstairs bridal style. In his loft he lays him down on his bed.   
He reaches out to touch Stiles' slashed chest but retracts his hand immediately.   
“How do you feel? How bad does it hurt?”  
The werewolf stands beside the bed helplessly, looking down at Stiles.  
“Not too bad, a little bruised maybe. How do I look?”  
Derek raises one eyebrow. “A little worse than just bruised.”  
Stiles tries to sit up again but the claw marks on his chest burn with every move. His head is spinning a little and his black eye is throbbing. He feels like shit.   
“You're okay. Izzy will be here soon. Just don't move too much.”  
“You don't know how to treat a wound?!”   
“I don't need to know, I heal. Remember?”  
“Right.”  
Stiles' eyes feel so heavy. Maybe he could close them for a while. Just for a few minutes.  
“Stiles! Stay with me.”  
But the pain is pounding so much louder than Derek's voice.  
“You said it doesn't hurt that much!”  
The mattress shifts under Derek's weight as he sits down next to Stiles.   
“You kissing me would definitely help,” Stiles mumbles drowsily. “Always does.”  
Derek chuckles quietly.  
“I have a better idea. But you have to stay awake!”  
He takes Stiles' hand who lets out a sigh of relief shortly after.   
“What are you doing?”  
“I'm taking your pain.”  
“Cool.”  
At that moment the door to the loft is ripped open.   
Izabel rushes in, followed by Scott.  
“What is he doing here?”  
Derek jumps up from the bed and walks towards them.   
“He's a doctor,” Izabel rolls her eyes and pushes Scott past Derek.  
“What happened to you, dude?” Scott asks looking at the claw marks on his friend's chest.  
“A knife,” Derek answers stepping close to loom over Scott's shoulder.  
“Must have been a pretty weird knife.”  
“It was. Can you stitch him up?”  
Scott looks up at him in disbelief but doesn't question it.  
“Of course I can.”  
Izabel grabs Derek's arm. “You're suffocating them.”  
She drags him a few feet away from the bed.   
“What did really happen?” she asks in a low voice.  
While Scott disinfects and bandages Stiles' wounds, Derek catches Izabel up.   
“Jackson got a call just before I left. They only caught one of them. Theo got away.”  
Derek isn't sure whether Izabel is annoyed or relieved about that.   
“What did he look like?” she asks.  
“He'll heal, Izabel. I broke his nose though.”  
“Not Theo,” she rolls her eyes. “The guy who attacked Stiles!”  
“Oh,” Derek studies her face intently. “I'm not sure it's a good idea to tell you.”  
Izabel rolls her eyes.  
“Look at him,” she points at Stiles. “Who was it?”  
“Kinda chubby. Blond,” Derek shrugs. “I don't know. I was a little busy beating the shit out of him.”  
Izabel narrows her eyes. She knows exactly who he's talking about.  
“Don't do anything stupid, Iz!”  
“Hey Hale, do you have any ice for his eye?” Scott calls from the bed.   
He's already packing up.  
Izabel shoves Derek towards his kitchen and goes to stand next to Scott.  
“How bad is it?”  
“Not as bad as it looks.”  
Derek sighs in relief. He sits down next to Stiles and presses the ice pack against his swollen eye. “His chest is pretty torn up but luckily the cuts aren't too deep. His head's fine too. Head injuries always bleed the most. Makes them look worse than they actually are. I don't think he has a concussion.”  
“I'm right here, you know,” Stiles mumbles.  
Scott picks up his bag, “You should get some rest.”  
He pats his best friend's leg consolingly, “I have to get back to work but I'll check on you later, buddy.”  
“That won't be necessary,” Derek straightens himself up.  
Izabel rolls her eyes and sees Scott to the door.   
“I'll see you later. Thanks Scott!”  
As soon as the door closes behind the doctor Izabel swivels around with a mischievous glint in her eyes.  
“So when did you two finally get it on?” she asks with a satisfied smirk.  
“What?”   
“That won't be necessary???” she imitates Derek and rolls her eyes. “Seriously? Could you be any more obvious?!” She crosses her arms.   
“I don't know what you're talking about.”  
“Yesterday after you left,” Stiles answers.   
Derek glowers at him, a betrayed look on his face. But his partner simply shrugs.  
“She would have found out sooner or later.”  
“Damn right,” Izabel sits down cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “You can thank me later.”  
Derek rolls his eyes at her and shakes his head.   
Stiles chuckles lightly which causes him to wince once more. Derek shoots him a concerned look.   
“I'm fine!”  
“No, you 're not.”  
“You guys are so adorable!” Izabel doesn't even try to hide her smirk. “Now tell me everything.”  
“Obviously we won't.”  
“Yes, you will.”  
Stiles looks from Derek to Izabel and back, watching their staring contest in amusement. He leans back into the cushion and puts more pressure on to the ice pack.  
“Just tell her.”  
Derek doesn't respond, only raises his eyebrows.  
“It's Izzy. You trust her, I trust her. Just tell her,” he closes his eyes. “Not that there's a lot to tell anyway.” 

The next morning Stiles is woken up by something tickling his nose. Derek is practically lying on top of him. His face is buried in the crook of Stiles' neck, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist and one of his legs is resting between the human's. Derek's knee is dangerously close to Stiles' crotch.   
It would be awesome to be this close to each other if it wasn't for the pins and needles in Stiles' right arm. Or the fact that Derek is heavy.   
“Derek,” Stiles tries to roll him over with his free hand but to no avail.   
The werewolf hums into his neck softly and buries his nose deeper into it. He tightens his grip around Stiles' waist.   
“Dude, you're crushing me.”  
For a moment Derek freezes. He contemplates if he could actually crush the brown-eyed boy in his arms. Then he reluctantly pulls away.   
Stiles groans and stretches his arms over his head. He feels every muscle in his body protesting this simple movement. As he sits up against the headboard as small gasp escapes his lips.  
Derek perks up at that. Without opening his eyes, he asks, “You want me to take the pain?”  
Stiles shakes his head, “It's not that bad. Just uncomfortable.”  
“Give me your hand.”  
“I said it's fine.”  
“Give it to me.”  
“Well, I can try. But you see I'm not exactly at the top of my game right now...” he snickers and extends his hand to Derek who has opened his eyes just to roll them at Stiles.  
A small moan escapes Stiles as the pain drains from his body.   
“This is soooo cool.”  
He slowly lies back down and snuggles into Derek.   
The Alpha smiles. He's very careful not to move too much. He had seen all the bruises already starting to form when Scott had removed Stiles' shirt yesterday. And he still blames himself for getting Stiles hurt in the first place.  
“I'm sorry.”  
Stiles hums as Derek's hand draws circles on his lower back. “For what?”  
“For getting you hurt.”  
“Mmh...'s my job.”  
Stiles looks up at him and rests his chin on Derek's chest.  
“It's not your fault! I've been injured before. This is what happens in our profession. And I'll heal. Maybe not as fast as you do,” he winks. “But you have to admit it was pretty cool to fight these assholes together.”  
“The next time you decide to seriously hurt yourself, a warning would be nice,” Derek mumbles into Stiles' hair.   
“First of all, it's not like I planned this. And secondly,...”  
“You know what I mean,” Derek raises an eyebrow.  
“Do I?”  
“You're lucky you're hurt right now,” a playful smiles dances around the wolf's lips and he places a tender kiss on Stiles' forehead.   
“I should go home,” Stiles sighs when his partner's phone buzzes. “This, “ he makes a gesture at Derek and his bed. “has been really nice but you have to get back to the office.”   
Before Derek can protest, he adds “I need a shower. And Mr. A has called you at least five times now. Don't think I didn't notice.”  
Facing Derek's unmoved expression, he sighs. “I'll be fine!”  
Stiles sits up slowly and presses a gentle kiss to Derek's lips.  
“I have a shower.”   
Stiles shakes his head and ignores him.  
“Scott can check on me. Since he's a doctor and all...”  
Derek pulls him close again. This time their kiss is slightly more aggressive. And a lot more possessive.   
“Fine. But I'll drive.”  
Stiles jumps of the bed a little too forcefully and wobbles slightly. Derek is right there to catch him before he can trip over his own feet.  
“Looks like you need some help after all.”  
“Stop enjoying this so much,” Stiles slaps his chest playfully. “Will you stop by later? I'll probably need some help figuring out what the hell we can write in that report.”  
“Sure.”

“Well, that was fast,” Stiles opens the door with a smile. “Miss me already?”  
But it's not Derek. Scott looks at him confused and steps into his best friend's apartment.  
“Were you expecting someone else?”  
“Äh...no.”  
Stiles pulls a face behind Scott's back and roll his eyes at himself.  
“How are you doing? Is the chest giving you any trouble?”  
“Nah.”  
Scott gives him a sceptical look. He sets his bag down on the coffee table and gestures for Stiles to take his shirt off.  
“I mean, it hurts like a bitch every time I move but that's it.”  
“So all the time?”  
“Jep.”  
While checking the wounds, Scott starts mumbling to himself.  
“So, a knife huh?”  
“It was a knife!” Stiles sounds almost offended. “A make-shift one. The guy grabbed some metal pole. Had a jagged edge.”  
“Mmh.”  
Stiles feels bad about lying to Scott like that but what other option is there?!  
“Even worse! A filthy pole is going to infect your wounds. I hope you yelled at Hale for getting you into this.”  
“It's not his fault.”  
“I think it kinda is. He should have taken better care of his partner. Should have had your back.”  
“It's not Derek's fault. OK?! It's our job. Sometimes we get hurt,” he shrugs. “You said Izabel is a regular visitor in your office.”  
“That's because Izabel is reckless and... Since when are you so defensive about Derek Hale?”  
“I'm not!”  
Scott looks at his best friend for a long moment. Then he shrugs.  
“Okay.”  
If Stiles wants to talk, he'll talk. Scott just has to be patient. The always tell each other everything.  
Which is exactly what Stiles wants to do.   
He desperately wants to tell Scott about the whirlwind of emotions inside him. But what is he supposed to say?  
`I'm dating my partner who is a werewolf, just like nearly all the suspects in our case. The wounds on my chest are actually claw marks and the wolf who attacked me literally threw me across the room. Also, I'm pretty sure Izabel will soon be lying on your surgery couch looking way worse than me. Because she's walked right into a whole pack of psycho-werewolves.´  
Not an option.  
But even the slightly less terrifying prospect of simply telling Scott that he's dating Derek is still just that. Terrifying.  
Which is why he says nothing.   
With a pat on the shoulder Scott finished bandaging Stiles and picks up his bag again.  
“I think you can start putting these big plasters over the cuts tomorrow.”  
He takes he box of them out of the bag and places them on the table. Then he reaches back inside and pulls out a small metal tin and a paper folder.  
“And you should apply some of this antiseptic cream every morning and evening.”  
Stiles isn't paying any attention to his friend. The case file with it's big black lettering draws off his attention.   
“What's that?” he reaches out for it but Scott hugs the paper to himself.   
“It's from Lydia. She said you wanted information on an old case. Apparently this hasn't made it into the archive.”  
Stiles looks at him with big round eyes.   
“Stiles, do you really want to do this behind their backs?”  
Lydia hadn't told Scott what case exactly she was talking about and he hadn't read the sheets she had left on his desk.   
But he remembers how frantic Stiles had searched the mostly blacked out case file he had found in the archive. The file about Izabel's and Derek's first case as partners.  
“I need to know this stuff, Scott!”  
“What if they find out you've been snooping around,” the doctor looks honestly concerned.   
“They won't. And besides, they have already told me lots. I just need to check some facts and fill in the gaps.”  
Scott searches his friend's face for any signs of doubt but Stiles only looks excited. He's slightly bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. With a sigh he hands him the folder.

A couple of hours later, Derek shows up at Stiles' apartment. And of course, Scott was right.   
The werewolf is not happy when he finds the folder on the coffee table.  
Stiles has spread Lydia's notes all over it and reread them at least seven times.   
“Why are you so obsessed with this case?”  
“Because I feel like you're not telling me everything. I don't want to be an easier target than I already am.”  
“I told you everything important. Trust me!”  
“I can't trust you with this because you're clearly biased. You don't see the facts clearly anymore. This,” he slams his fist on top of the folder. “is obviously connected to our case. Theo didn't come back here for the beauty of the landscape.”  
Derek rolls his eyes.  
But Stiles doesn't even notice. He's talked himself into a rage.   
“And Jackson. What's up with that dude?! He's definitely up to something. I mean, come on – he's abducted half of Theo's pack. They're not a threat to him anymore. There has to be something else!”  
“Are you done?”   
Stiles looks at Derek with a heaving chest. He has been talking without catching his breath or looking at his partner. The werewolf stands tall, almost stiff in front of him. His arms are crossed and his face is even more unreadable than usual. He looks drained.  
“No, I'm not done. I just don't understand why you would keep all this stuff from me. It's important for our case and I can't trust you to figure this out if you refuse to even think about it. I'd understand it if Izabel didn't want to talk about this – I mean, apparently her brother was killed.”  
Upon hearing this Derek winces.  
“But why YOU won't talk to me, is beyond me.”  
“Her brother was killed.”  
“Yeah, I just said that.”  
Derek cocks an eyebrow.   
“Your level of obliviousness is peaking.”  
“I’m sorry I don’t speak in ‘eyebrows’.”  
As Stiles opens his mouth to continue ranting, Derek snatches the papers from the table.   
And leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back bitches! Finals didn't kill me - wuhuuu


	12. Kindle - to make something such as an interest, emotion etc. start to grow in someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Izabel and Scott unintentionally rekindle our two lovers' passion

“Okay, that's it! We're going out.”  
Izabel shuts her laptop and jumps off her couch. Derek doesn't move a muscle.  
“I hate clubbing.”  
“And I hate how your moping around my apartment. If I'd known you only wanted to come here to spy on Stiles, I wouldn't have agreed to this.”  
With one last look at Derek she walks off.   
“He's not even home.”  
“So you've been spying.”  
Derek can hear the rustling of her searching the wardrobe for something suitable to wear.  
“He's with Scott. And apparently you're not the only stubborn one. He wouldn't tell me what happened either.”  
“Maybe that's because it doesn't concern you,” Derek shouts back.   
“Clearly it concerns me. You're here. In MY apartment. Killing MY vibes.”  
“Your vibes?”  
“That's what all the cool kids say these days.”  
Derek sighs and saves his progress on the mission report. He walks over to stand in the open door of Izabel's bedroom.   
“Honestly Derek! It's been four days. You guys are killing me. Just talk to him, for fuck's sake!”  
She takes a dress from it's hanger, holds it up in front of herself and throws it on the bed.   
“And what am I supposed to say?”  
“I don't know,” she rolls her eyes at him. “That you're sorry.”  
“I didn't do anything.”  
“Oh please! That's exactly what someone who has done something wrong would say.”  
“He said he didn't trust me,” Derek replies quietly.  
“He said he didn't trust you to solve the case.”  
Izabel picks out a pair of shorts and a slightly oversized T-shirt and throws them on the bed too.  
Then she starts rummaging around another drawer.  
“I thought he didn't tell you anything.”  
“He didn't tell me anything useful.”  
“Do you own anything that actually fits you or is every shirt in there two sizes too big?”  
“Don't try to distract me, Derek! This is about you, “she jabs a finger at him. “And how you're going to redeem yourself.”  
“Redeem myself?”  
“And yes! I have a lot of shirts that fit me. But I haven't danced for so long, I need to go crazy! Which means that I have to be comfortable. And YOU need to stop sulking!”  
“You remember that I can't get drunk?”  
“Who said anything about getting drunk?” Izabel takes another shirt out of her wardrobe and closes it. “I just want you to forget about all this drama for a while and clear your head. You can dance with me!”   
She winks at him and starts changing into a loose cropped T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Then she pulls her hair up into a messy bun and sits down in front of the mirror to apply some mascara.   
“I hate dancing too.”  
“Yeah, I know. And I hate stupid people who act all tough and shit and can't even make up with their boyfriend after the tiniest argument.”  
“I...”  
“I'm sorry, did you say something?” Izabel cocks her head. “I can't hear you over the size of your ego.”  
Derek rolls his eyes so hard, he swears he can see the inside of his skull.  
But she's right. Part of him is too proud to call Stiles. But there's also that other part of him, the one that's hurt. Hurt by Stiles' words. Hurt that he doesn't trust him.   
“Seriously though. Let's just go out! I'll dance, you can try to have a good time and if that doesn't work out for you...” she jumps up from the floor. “You can still laugh at the idiots that think it's a good idea to challenge me to a dance off.”

 

“Who does he think he is? I'm not his little bitch that he can push around. If it concerns him, it concerns me too.”  
“Dude, I have no clue what you're talking about.”  
Stiles has been lying on Scott's carpet for the last half an hour. He's been going on and on about Derek and what an asshole he is without telling his best friend what has actually happened.   
“I told you. Derek doesn't trust me. He's keeping things from me.”  
“Maybe they're too personal.”  
“We're a team. We're partners. I need to know stuff.”  
“If you're afraid to get hurt again, just tell him.”  
“I'm not...You 're not getting the point here,” Stiles sighs exasperatedly.  
“Oh, I get it! You still have a thing for him.”  
Stiles nearly chokes on his own spit.  
“No I don't,” he fakes a laugh.  
“Right,” Scott rolls his eyes and kicks Stiles lightly. “If that's what you want to believe. Have it your way! But I'm not taking another minute of this. Let's go!”  
Stiles trips over his own feet trying to get up from the floor and falls into Scott.   
“Where are we going?”  
“If your best friend is frustrated with his partner, sexually or not, you get your best friend drunk!”  
Stiles punches him in the shoulder.   
“It's not sexual, ass!”  
“Whatever you say, man.”  
“Stop smirking. You're worse than Izabel.”  
“I doubt that!” Scott chuckles. “But seriously dude, this is childish! You haven't talked to each other for four days.”  
“We talk.”  
“Yeah, you go 'well partner, this is the report you asked for. Partner' or you say weird stuff like 'great observation, partner'” Scott shakes his head. “And then you come back here and cry your heart out in front of me.”  
“Okay. I admit it's been a little strange lately.”  
“And I quote 'this is so awkward, dude. We sit in complete silence all the time! Complete silence! No talk. And he's back to one word answers and I have to talk about Star Wars and the Hubble telescope' end quote.”  
“We're just acting professional now.”  
Scott looks at Stiles, completely deadpan.   
“You gave him finger guns.”  
“Ugh,” Stiles tugs at his hair, sounding absolutely distraught.   
“So if you can't talk to him, let's get hammered! You'll feel crappy tomorrow and then you can move on.”  
“How is getting hammered going to help me with this?”  
“I don't know. You're the smart one!” Scott shrugs and puts his shoes on. “Maybe it'll reboot your brain. At least you won't think about it for one night.”  
“Fair enough.”

 

“Why did we have to get food before this?”  
“Because I need energy to dance. Beside, you should never drink on an empty stomach, Der! You should really know that.”  
“No, I shouldn't!”  
Izabel ignores him, “Plus, it's fun to watch you suffer just a little bit longer. The anticipation of social interaction really throws you off course.”  
“You're such a bitch sometimes,” Derek mutters.   
“Excuse me?!” Izabel laughs in his miserable face. “Cheer up, buttercup!”  
She slips one arm around Derek's waist and bumps her hip into his. “You need to learn to let go, wolfie. Swallowing your conflicting emotions like this is going to eat you up from the inside. You have to let yourself want things. It's okay to have feelings and act upon them!”  
“Says you! The one who likes to give everyone but herself relationship advice.”  
“Hey, not fair!”  
She lets go of him and starts balancing on the kerbside. Derek watches his best friend with amusement. Her serenity is so innocent, it pains him to remember the heaviness of her anguish.  
“Maybe you're right.”  
“Sorry, what was that?”  
Derek rolls his eyes. “I said maybe.”  
They turn into a backstreet and Izabel knocks on a small metal door. The whole alley is covered in graffiti and the door itself is dotted with stickers.   
A bald guy opens it, he is the definition of a brick shithouse. Annoyed he scans the two in front of him and soon enough his face lights up. “Izabel!”  
He lifts her off the ground with his embrace.  
“Hey Tony. Good to see you, man!”  
“Where have you been, poppet?”  
“Ah, you know...been busy saving the world.”  
Tony laughs and steps aside, beckoning them inside.  
“Well, we miss you girl. You need to stop by more often.”  
“Yeah, I probably should. My friend here,” she jabs a finger at Derek's chest. “Keeps telling me I'm becoming cranky. Probably the dance deprivation.”  
Tony laughs again and pats her on the shoulder. “It's good to see you again, girlie.”  
“You too, Tony. You too!” she pecks him on the cheek.   
Izabel and Derek follow the sound of loud music down a long hallway.   
“What did just happen?”  
Izabel rolls her eyes. “I used to work here, remember?”  
“This is the 'Inferno'?”  
“Where else would we go?”  
“Well, excuse me. I've never used the back entrance before.”  
“Feels good, doesn't it?!” Izabel is smiling even wider than before. She's in her element.

 

“This isn't even a gay bar.”  
On the way to the club Stiles' mood has changed from angry to whiny.  
“There's still booze. Come on, crybaby!”  
Scott leads him to the bar and orders two beers.   
“To letting steam off and getting drunk with your best friend.”  
They clink their bottles together and Stiles downs half of it in one go. And chokes.  
“Easy there,” Scott pats him on the back and laughs.  
“The night is just starting.”  
“Well, this is not making me drunk fast enough.”  
“Two shots of Tequila,” he tells the barkeeper. Then he turns to Scott and adds, “You want anything?”  
Amused Scott shakes his head. “Just try not to get too carried away, buddy.”

 

After Izabel had chatted to the bartenders for half an hour and downed about five cocktails, she disappeared to the dance floor. All this time Derek had sat at the bar impassively watching everyone. And rolling his eyes at the public stupidity that, once again, is playing out in front of him. Now an arm is flung around his neck and Izabel shouts into his ear.  
“What's up biatch?!”  
“You're gracing me with your presence. How generous of you, my Lady!”  
“Sarcasm. Nice!”  
She's smiling from one ear to the other. The smell of sweat and alcohol radiates of her skin and the tiny strands of hair that have come loose from her bun are sticking to her forehead. But she looks happy. Happier than Derek has seen her in a while.  
“I totally crushed that dude out there.”  
“I could hear his proud heart breaking all the way over here,” Derek smirks.  
“Right?” she looks at him enthusiastically. “Hey, two more over here please,”she shouts over the bar.  
As the bartender sets two shot glasses down in front of her, she immediately downs one of them.  
“Okay, I think you've had enough!”  
Derek takes the second shot glass from Izabel's hand and chugs it himself.  
“Yes, that's my boy.”  
“I'm not...whatever.”  
“Seriously? Are you still sulking? Get a life, bitch!”  
“Bitch? You've definitely had enough alcohol.”  
“NOOOOO! But I want some!”she tries to grab the empty glass from Derek's hand. “You're such a buzzkill, Derek!”  
Derek hands her the glass and bursts out laughing when her face drops as she realises that he drank it.   
“You're having fun?”Izabel looks surprised. Which pains Derek. She is way too worried about him.  
“Of course I am, Iz.”  
She pouts. Then she taps a finger to his nose.   
“Good. Dance with me?”  
“No, absolutely not.”  
She squints her eyes at him, shrugs and saunters off. Halfway to the dance floor she turns around and shouts “Buzzkill!” at him. Then she disappears into the crowd again. 

 

“Either I've got a chance with Mr Eyebrow over there or I'm on his hit list...”  
“Who?” Scott follows Stiles' gaze to the other end of the bar.  
“That hot guy over there! He's been checking me out since we've arrived.”  
“Dude, that's...”  
“I'll take the risk, hold my beer.”  
“Wait, what?” Scott flails, grabbing the bottle and tries to stop Stiles but it's no use. His best friend is already striding along the bar to where Derek is sipping on his beer half-heartedly.  
“Hey handsome.”  
Stiles puts a smug face on and tries to lean against the counter but miscalculates the distance just a tiny bit. He stumbles.   
Fuck. Cover it up. Maybe he didn't see, he thinks.   
And hands the tall, dark man who seems oddly familiar a lime.  
Derek jumps in his seat when Stiles stumbles up to him. What the hell is he doing here? Then he smells the overwhelming stench of alcohol on his partner. It's so strong, he can't help but recoil from from his approach.  
“It's a pickup lime.”  
“Ah, I see.”  
Derek is cringing. What is happening? Did Stiles lose his vision? How drunk could he possibly be?  
“Hey boy, are you sleep? Cause I don't get nearly enough of you and it's ruining my social, emotional, and over all mental health.“   
Apparently very drunk.  
“That is extremely disturbing.” Derek raises his eyebrows and tightens the grip on his beer bottle.  
“What's up guuuurls?” Izabel suddenly reappears from the dance floor, throwing one arm around each of the two men.   
Stiles doesn't seem to notice. “Spell me.”  
“What?”  
“Spell me!”  
How can a person be this drunk? Derek shakes his head.   
Maybe it's the lights in this club. Maybe he looks different today.  
“M – E”  
“You forgot the D.”  
“There's no D in me.”  
“NOT YET!” Stiles shouts and looks at Derek expectantly. A smirk is plastered across his face and he looks very proud of himself.   
This goes on for a little while longer. Izabel is shaking with laughter, holding her belly and leaning against a stool for support. Derek is rolling his eyes harder than ever before in his life. He is feeling the second-hand embarassment on a whole other level.  
Stiles seems to have an endless supply of pick-up lines. He just doesn't stop.   
“That's it!”  
Derek grabs Stiles by the arm and starts dragging him across the club.   
“Woah, not so fast. I don't even know you're name yet,” Stiles rambles on, not really making any sense at this point any more.   
“I think this belongs to you,” Derek grunts and shoves Stiles on a chair.   
“I tried to stop him,” Scott shouts after Derek's disappearing figure.  
“This is hilarious,” Izabel high-fives Stiles. 

 

Derek walks all the way back to his apartment.  
This evening took some unexpected turns.   
Izabel had been unusually keen to get drunk. Normally she would stay sober out of solidarity with him. And Stiles.   
Drunk Stiles apparently loses all his filters. Drunk Stiles is awfully flirty. And full of cringy pick-up lines. Derek doesn't know if he likes it or not.  
It had been kind of fun to watch the little guy squirm in front of him. Trying too hard and making a fool out of himself.   
Maybe he could have enjoyed this encounter if they hadn't been fighting. But the question that had been nagging Derek since he left the Inferno was another one.  
Stiles had hit on him without recognizing Derek. Did he get wasted because he was upset with Derek? Or did he get drunk to hit on strangers because he was angry and hurt and felt like he needed to forget about Derek?  
Thinking about this Derek arrives home and brushes his teeth in a trance.  
When he takes his shirt and pants off and climbs into bed, his head is still spinning with questions. Tomorrow he would have to talk to Stiles. This has to stop. It's ridiculous. 

 

“Where'd the hot guy go?”  
“Stiles honey. That was Derek.” Izabel hands him a glass of water. “Drink this.”  
“Derek?”  
“Drink up, buddy.”  
Scott exchanges a worried look with Izabel. As funny as it had been to watch Stiles flail about in front of his partner, he was a little concerned. Stiles definitely had one too many.  
“You were flirting with him.”  
“So?” Stiles shrugs nonchalantly. “He's my boyfriend.”  
“He's your what?”  
Scott looks from his best friend to Izabel who just smiles back sheepishly.  
“You asked him if he was single,” Izabel explains to Stiles. “And cried when he said he wasn't.”  
“He's going to kill me.”  
“We should get you home, buddy.”  
Izabel and Scott escort Stiles out of the club.   
“I can take him home, Izabel. You should get some sleep.”  
“Are you sure?” she eyes them sceptically.  
“Yes. Just go. I got this!”

 

Derek has just fallen asleep when he's woken up again by something hitting against his window.  
Probably just a bird, he thinks.   
But then there's another tap against the glass. And another one.  
Derek checks his phone. 4 am. Awesome.  
Before he can get up to yell at whoever thought it'd be funny to terrorize a werewolf in the middle of the night, someone starts shouting outside.  
“YO, I KNOW YOU LIKE ME AND I LOVE YOU TOO BITCH. LET’S SEX IT UP.”  
Derek jumps out of his bed and rips the window open.  
“Stilinski! What the hell?!”  
“We need to talk!”   
“You have a phone.”  
Something hits him in the face.  
“Did you just throw your phone at me?”  
“Maybe.”


	13. Mocking - showing that you think somebody/something is ridiculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Stiles takes Derek to a Lacrosse game and Isaac interrupts the action

Stiles tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Derek and him are on their way to see Scott's lacrosse game. It had taken Stiles three days to persuade Derek to come along. And now, he is nervous. Because there's something that has been nagging him for days. He can feel the thought itching in the back of his mind again.  
“So are you going to ask?” Derek raises his eyebrows.  
“What?”  
“The question you've been dying to ask all day?”  
“I..no...no question here. No question for Stiles.”  
Derek just looks at him. Stiles keeps his gaze fixed on the street but from the corner of his eye he sees the werewolf rolling his eyes.  
He sighs. “Okay, there might have been something that I wanted to ask...if you...”  
Derek turns towards him. And raises an eyebrow.  
And Stiles chickens out.  
“Do I smell weird?”  
“What?”  
“Do I smell weird to you?”  
“That is your question?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You know I can tell you're lying, right?”  
“What? How?”  
Derek rolls his eyes again. “I can hear your heartbeat, it just skipped a beat. And you just admitted you were lying.”  
“I didn't.”  
“Stiles!”  
“Ugh..okay, here goes nothing!” he runs a hand through his hair. As fast and silent as possible he says, “Do you like me? Like 'like like' me?”  
Keeping his gaze straight on the road, he squeezes the steering wheel again. His knuckles turn white.  
He can hear Derek sigh dramatically.  
“I'm going to punch you in the mouth, Stiles!”  
“What?”  
“With my mouth,” Derek grins. “Because I like you.”  
“Are you flirting with me?”  
Stiles bites his lip to hide a smile.  
“Yeah, have been for a month. Thanks for noticing.”  
“Wow!” Stiles' voice is thick with sarcasm. “You're an ass!”  
Although Derek said exactly what Stiles was hoping to hear, he still feels insecure about this. He doesn't remember when the thought had first popped up but for the last week he has been thinking about it almost constantly.  
Wondering when they had gone from `fuck you´to `I'd fuck you´ and from awkward eye contact to checking each other out.  
But he can't tell Derek how much time he has spent trying to figure out what the hell the Alpha sees in him. And if he's honest, he hasn't asked because he's scared of the answer. Or, more accurately, that there is no answer. And that, once pointed out, Derek will realize what Stiles' brain keeps telling him over and over again. That they are too different – unfit for each other.  
He's grinding his teeth now.  
But he loosens his grip and relaxes into his seat. He even risks a look at Derek who is staring out the window absent-mindedly now.  
“That's not how you flirt.”  
Derek just looks at him without a word.  
“You could try something a little more creative, you know?”  
“Like what?”  
“Hey, my name is Stiles. The 'D' is silent. “  
“There is no 'D' in y...” he squints his eyes at Stiles. “You won't fool me this time.”  
“You're kinda hard on me at the moment, aren't you?”  
“Stop.”  
Stiles huffs. “And we're back.”  
Derek sighs once again.  
“I like you, Stiles! You....make me laugh.”  
“When have I ever made you laugh?” Stiles snorts.  
“I don't know,” the Alpha shrugs. “When you tripped and fell in the parking lot yesterday?”  
“Here we go,” Stiles rolls his eyes.  
“I'm serious though.”  
Derek's very uncomfortable. Feelings are something he usually avoids talking about. At all costs. “You make me happy, Stiles!”  
Stiles takes his hand and intertwines their fingers.  
“Always happy to please.”  
Derek snorts and gives Stiles' hand a squeeze.  
“Just don't expect me to do this all the time now. I'm just being nice because it's adorable how excited you are about this stupid game.”  
“Stupid?” Stiles shakes his head. “This game is not stupid, Mister! It's the finals! Finals!!! As in final game of the season. Scott's team has never been this good. And he's only been training them for three years. This is huge!”  
Derek shakes his head, a small smile on his face.  
“Sure, it is.”  
“You know what?” Stiles sticks his tongue out at him. “If you keep being such a negative nancy, I'm going to force you to talk about your feelings for the next week!”  
“And then I'll rip your throat out – with my teeth.”  
“You wouldn't dare!”  
“Try me.”  
Derek's voice sounds dead serious but when Stiles quickly looks over at him he's smiling.  
I did that, Stiles thinks proudly. 

 

“Why did I agree to come here?”  
“Because I'm irresistible.”  
Derek rolls his eyes and looks around them with an utterly disgusted expression.  
The two of them are sitting on the bleachers of Beacon Hill's High School, surrounded by students.  
The first half of the game is nearly over and so far, Derek still doesn't get the game. Stiles has tried to explain it to him twice.  
But to be honest, he doesn't mind all that much. He is content just watching Stiles jump up and down in excitement or yelling at the team. It's the most entertaining thing he's seen this week.  
“Why would anyone want to watch such nonsense?” Derek is too bored not to continue this senseless conversation.  
“I don't know. Maybe because the players are hot?!”  
Derek's eyebrows shoot up as he turns to face Stiles who's grinning from one ear to the other.  
“No need to be jealous, Derek!” he prods him in the ribs.  
“I'm not.”  
“It's okay. You don't need to feel threatened.”  
Stiles presses a quick kiss to Derek's lips and turns his attention back to the game.  
When the referee blows for half time, Stiles groans in frustration.  
“So close!”  
Derek casts a glance over at the score board to see that the visiting team is in the lead. Stiles rambles on about the game but the werewolf pays no attention. He watches the human closely, taking in every detail of his flushed, excited face. The glint in his brown eyes. The way he flicks his tongue out to wet his lips.  
And asks himself when he had become so infatuated with this skinny kid. When exactly had he agreed to this...? What even is this? What are they?  
“I'm gonna go say 'hi' to Scott. You wanna come?” Stiles says now.  
Derek shakes his head. “I'll save your place.”  
“Okay. I'll be right back!”  
Stiles stands up but Derek grabs his wrist and pulls him back down next to him. Before Stiles can protest, he kisses him. Stiles squeals in surprise at the sudden action but nevertheless melts into the touch immediately and kisses him back.  
“What was that for?”  
“Just something for the road,” Derek smirks.  
Stiles shakes his head and snickers.  
Derek watches him saunter past the stands to the benches. Scott's team is huddled around their coach and he's talking agitatedly. When the doctors spots Stiles, he pats one of the players on the shoulder and comes Stiles' way. They hug.  
“So you brought Derek, huh?” Scott teases his friend. “Does that mean you guys are official now?”  
Derek tenses up unintentionally.  
But when Stiles answers, he can hear the smile in his voice.  
“I think so! Things are going pretty well...after that disastrous night last week we talked a lot.”  
“Dude, that was two weeks ago.”  
Stiles and him had been talking. A little too much for his liking if Derek is honest. But nevertheless he still feels like they haven't talked enough. Which is, for the most part, his fault.  
There are still so many things that he feels he should tell Stiles about. But he just can't.  
“Really? Huh?”  
“Yeah, where have you been?”  
“Oh, we've been looking for a suspect. It's like pissing in the wind.”  
Then they start talking about the game and Derek tunes their voices out again. He watches Stiles flail about while he talks. 

 

Stiles returns to his seat to find Derek gone. Confused he does a 360. The Alpha is nowhere to be seen. Stiles leaves the bleachers and heads back to the school in search for his partner. But the halls of Beacon Hills High School are deserted.  
After a couple of minutes of aimlessly wandering around his old school Stiles decides to simply return to his seat. Derek will come back there. He probably already has.  
But when Stiles reaches the lacrosse field again, Derek is waiting behind the bleachers for him.  
“Where were you?  
“I could ask you the same question. You said you'd save my place.”  
“I had to stretch out my legs.”  
Stiles raises his eyebrows and reaches for Derek's hand.  
“Too many smelly teenagers?”  
Derek snorts and intertwines his fingers with Stiles'.  
“My wolf is a little restless.”  
“Why?”  
“I don't know,” he sighs. “Something feels wrong but I can't figure out what.”  
“Mmh..” Stiles hums absent-mindedly.  
He steps closer to Derek and snakes his hands around his neck. He buries his fingers in Derek's hair.  
“Maybe you just need a little distraction,” he says without averting his gaze from his boyfriend's lips.  
Derek smirks, “Maybe.”  
He grabs at Stiles' belt loops and pulls him closer. Stiles' heartbeat is quick, the smell of arousal fucking overwhelming and Derek feels a heat that has become all too familiar over the last days.  
The Alpha leans down and presses his lips against Stiles'. Their kiss quickly turns sloppy and Stiles' skin gets flushed and sensitive because Derek's stubble is rasping along his neck and jaw. Everything gets filthy and open-mouthed. Both of them are making small noises in the back of their throats now.  
Stiles' hands are buried in Derek's hair. And the way Derek rubs slow circles on the small of his back makes him moan into the kiss. The sensation of Derek's hands on his naked skin lets him forget that they are making out behind the bleachers of a High School in broad daylight.  
Until someone clears their throat right behind them.  
Isaac doesn't even try to hide his smirk.  
“Second half already started,” he remarks.  
Stiles blushes slightly and Derek rolls his eyes.  
“What the fuck are you doing here?!”  
Isaac ignores Stiles' annoyed stare, “My life motto is 'single and ready to mingle' but this...” he vaguely gestures in their direction, shaking his head in doubt.  
“So? You probably also think the glass is half full. I can't remember when I asked for your opinion.”  
“The glass IS half full. What else would it be?”  
Derek rests a hand on Stiles' shoulder before he can charge at his laughing beta.  
“I wasn't born with enough middle fingers to show you how I feel about you,” Stiles grinds his teeth. Then he adds, “FYI, the glass is half empty.”  
“It is always half full.”  
“I think you're full of shit, Isaac!” Stiles snorts.  
“What is the point of him? Seriously, what is his purpose?” he asks Derek. “Aside from the persistent negativity – and the scarf. What's up with the scarf anyway? It's 65 degrees.”  
Isaac shoves his hands in his pockets. “Found yourself a little terrier, huh Derek?”  
“I don't trust him,” Stiles huffs under his breath.  
“Well, he doesn't trust you either,” Isaac says, voice filled with bitterness.  
Stiles narrows his eyes at him. Damn enhanced werewolf hearing.  
Derek rolls his eyes at their childish behaviour.  
“What do you want, Isaac?”  
“Izabel hasn't returned any of my calls.”  
Derek furrows his eyebrows.  
“She had to go out of town for a couple of days,” Stiles chimes in. “She asked me to look after Mikey.”  
“When?”  
“Last week.”  
Isaac looks back and forth between the two of them. “It's not like her to disappear like this.”  
Derek is staring off into the distance.  
“This whole undercover thing is exhausting, maybe she just went for a hike or something,” Stiles shrugs but now he's worried too.  
Isaac is right. Izabel couldn't tell them much about the case on the phone but would at least text them every now and then. Even if she only sends Stiles some stupid meme. It's her way of telling them that she's okay and they'd find new information on their desks soon. Now that he thinks about it, she hasn't texted or called in five days. Which is weird because even though Stiles is doing his best taking care of her husky he'd expected her to check in every now and then. Izabel loves her dog.  
And if she wanted to get out, she would have probably taken him with her. So this had to be about the case. About Jackson.  
“Let's go!”  
Derek walks off. Isaac follows him without comment.  
“Where are we going?” Stiles is the last one to arrive by his car.  
“Izabel's apartment. We'll start looking for clues there.”

 

“So you let Isaac in on the case?!”  
Stiles is pretty sure the wolf hears the annoyance in his voice but Derek doesn't defer to it.  
“An extra pair of supernatural ears doesn't hurt.”  
They have send a protesting Isaac out to take Mikey for a walk and are now searching Izabel's apartment room by room.  
Derek is trying to stay calm but in reality he is freaking out. Big time.  
This is exactly why he never allows himself any distractions. He has spent so much time with Stiles these past days, at and outside of work, that he hasn't even noticed that Izabel has been MIA since their night at the club. The fact that she's texted Stiles once since then doesn't reassure him, not in the least.  
“There's nothing here,” Stiles exits the bedroom with a gloomy expression. “No signs of a forced entry. Her suitcases are still here and, judging by the amount of clothes in that wardrobe, she hasn't even packed a small bag. It's like she just disappeared.”  
“The windows are still open. Izabel thought she wouldn't be gone for long when she left.”  
Derek straightens up. The living room is the same organized mess it always is, there is nothing out of the ordinary. He can't find any signs of a struggle and Stiles is right. All of Izabel's stuff is still here.  
“Did you water her plants?” Derek asks with a look at the succulents Izabel has lined up on her window sill.  
“No,” Stiles looks over his partner's shoulder. “Why? Do you know anything about gardening?”  
“I've been Izzy's dog- and plant-sitter multiple times. She loves to travel. And these ones,” he points at the succulents. “They can last two weeks without water and still look normal but those ones,” he nods towards a rubber plant and three plants hanging from the ceiling. “They don't look so good. Which means that she's been gone for at least four days.”  
“Five,” Stiles corrects. “She texted me five days ago.”  
Derek picks up a small watering pot and shoves it into Stiles' hands.  
“You should water all of them. Izzy will be pissed if you let her plants die.”  
“Pfft,” Stiles rolls his eyes and heads to the kitchen.  
The werewolf looks around the room one more time.  
On the coffee table a cup is placed next to a book. The bookmark sits close to the end of the book and the cup is still half filled with tea. So she had left in a hurry. But not because someone had rung the door bell. She had taken the time to put the bookmark back between the pages instead of quickly flipping the book face down onto the table. Maybe a call...  
“Derek? How many days does it take for potato salad to get mouldy?” Stiles calls from the kitchen.  
Potato salad? Derek rushes to Stiles' side and peers into the fridge. It's fairly empty but the Tupperware container Stiles is referring to is not the only mouldy thing inside. The smell of it makes him recoil and shut the fridge forcefully.  
“It's from Thursday. Izabel came by my place and brought me some,” Derek says.  
“That's two days before I got the text.”  
“What exactly did she text you?”  
Stiles pulls out his phone and opens the chat. 

'I'm going out of town for a while. Can you take care of Mikey? Thanks.' 

“I thought it was a little weird. Normally she always uses emojis but I just assumed she was in a hurry,” Stiles shrugs.  
“And you didn't think it's weird that she's leaving town at two in the morning?”  
“I guess I didn't watch the clock.”  
Derek doesn't even roll his eyes. His mind is racing. What could have possibly motivated Izabel to leave town in such a hurry. Then he remembers the tea.  
“The text was sent after she left.”  
Stiles looks at him blankly.  
“Izabel always goes to bed at the same time. Something about sleeping patterns,” he shrugs. “And she always drinks a cup of tea before going to bed.”  
He browses through Izabel's mail on the kitchen table.  
“Did you put these here?”  
Stiles nods. “So we know that she was at your place on Thursday.”  
“At eight thirty.”  
“At eight thirty. And she came back here and made herself a cup of tea and then...” He looks around the room for any other evidence.  
Triumphantly Derek holds up a letter.  
“The first day you took mail up here. How many letters were in the mail box?”  
“Just one. Izabel's not the most popular girl.”  
“Okay, that means this is the first letter that she didn't collect herself. It was stamped Thursday.”  
“Okay, so it might have been delivered Friday. But that doesn't mean anything. Maybe she doesn't check her mail every single day.”  
“But it narrows down our time frame. She left either Friday or Saturday evening.”  
“And that's gonna help us how?” Isaac leans against the door frame, Mikey happily trotting past him to lick Derek's shoes. “Or have you geniuses figured out where she went?”  
Stiles rolls his eyes.  
“No. But now we know that Izabel's been missing since Friday or Saturday evening. She left in a hurry because...”  
“Someone called her,” Derek interrupts. “Someone important enough to get her out of the house just before bedtime. And since it was none of us...” he trails off.  
“It was probably Jackson,” Stiles closes.  
“So, something must have happened between, let's say, 9pm and 2am. Something that motivated her to leave town instantly,” Isaac concludes. “Great job. So are we going or what?”  
“Where?” Stiles screws up his nose.  
“To ask that Jackson guy what the hell happened.”  
Derek nods, his look absent. “You guys go ahead, I'll catch up.”  
Stiles looks at him worriedly.  
“You okay?”  
“Yeah. Go, I'll catch up.”  
Stiles casts a last glance at his boyfriend before following Isaac out of the apartment. Derek can hear them bicker in the stairwell. He goes back into the living room and picks Izabel's book up.  
“Please let it be a different one,” he mutters under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still following the story, THANK YOU SO MUCH!   
> I know that I don't upload very regularly which is why I appreciate every one of you cuties even more!!
> 
> Hope you have a great day, xx


	14. Nauseate  - upset and make ill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the team comes to Izabel's rescue and adopts a puppy.

“Where the hell is she?”  
“Good to see you too, Hale.”  
Jackson stands up from where he has been fine-tuning his bike. He wipes his hands clean on an old rag. The werewolf seems very unimpressed to see Derek, Stiles and Isaac marching up to him right in front of his hide out.   
“Shut up.”  
“You too, Stilinski,” Jackson crosses his arms and smiles at them haughtily. “One question though? How did you find me?”  
“We followed the scumbag smell,” Isaac retorts.   
“And who are you?”  
“I'm 80% pizza, 20% Capri Sun and 100% swag.  
“That's 200%.“  
“That's because I'm twice the werewolf you'll ever be.”  
“Ha, good one!” Stiles smirks at Isaac. Their mutual disgust for Jackson unites them for now.  
Derek however isn't amused. “Where is Izabel?” he repeats.  
“If you won't tell me how you found me here, I'm going to have to guess,” Jackson ignores Derek completely. “It couldn't have been our smell. You've probably already noticed: Mine is the only supernatural scent here. Nick was kind enough to teach my pack how to inhibit their werewolf scent. Pretty cool, huh?”  
He looks at the three of them expectantly. Derek is clenching his fists now. Stiles has rested his hand on his elbow in an attempt to calm the Alpha down. Isaac stares back at Jackson disinterestedly and yawns.  
“Izabel told us where you're hiding,” Stiles rolls his eyes.  
“So she DID spy on me,” Jackson nods to himself. “For you though?” he looks at Derek disbelievingly.  
“Where. Is. She.” Derek is close to exploding now. Stiles can feel him tremble under his touch.   
And when Jackson doesn't answer straight away, he rushes forward and flings him against the nearest wall. Jackson gets up and laughs.   
“Gerard took her.”  
“And you're tuning your bike as cool as you please. Shouldn't you be looking for her?”   
Isaac huffs at Stiles' question. “I don't think he cares.”  
Jackson fixates them with a death glare. “How would you know?”  
Derek shouts at him again. “Why did he take her? Why didn't you tell me?”  
“It's none of your business. You're not her Alpha, Hale!”  
Something passes over Jackson's face. It's a mixture of pride and sadness, maybe even worry.   
Stiles doesn't know what to think of him. He still seems like the prick he remembers from school but something doesn't fit the picture. Stiles can't describe what bothers him exactly. It's more of a gut instinct.   
But he doesn't have time to dwell on it because now Derek flashes his eyes red. His forearm pressed against the younger Alpha's throat, he pins Jackson against the wall.   
“You turned her?” he growls.   
And before Jackson can say anything else, Derek's fist connects with his nose. The next minutes consist of claws slashing fabric and skin, the sound of bones cracking and some even snapping.   
Stiles doesn't know if he should be frightened or impressed by their stealth and speed. While Isaac stands beside him, seemingly unflustered, Stiles winces every time Jackson strikes a particularly nasty blow. They look at each other and then back at the two Alphas rolling around in the dirt.  
“Should we..?”  
“Nah, I don't exactly want to get in there.”   
“Me neither.”  
So they watch the fight a little while longer. Stiles wonders why none of Jackson's betas have come to his aid yet. Suddenly Isaac wolfs out and turns around.  
Appearing behind them, as if the thought alone had conjured them, Jackson's pack closes in. Before he can say or do anything, Stiles is snatched from Isaac's side and feels claws digging into his throat.   
“Stay back,” a voice growls close to his ear.   
Isaac stays where he is but doesn't retract his claws. He's baring his teeth at the attackers, but they are outnumbered.   
Derek and Jackson seem completely oblivious to the situation. They are still beating the crap out of each other.   
“I said get back!” the wolf holding Stiles repeats, this time directed at Derek.  
But neither him nor Jackson show any reaction.  
“Stay back, Hale. Or I'll rip his throat out.”  
Isaac lets out a low growl.  
Stiles' mind is racing. This is bad. Really bad!   
If he could just grab his gun. But his attacker is holding Stiles too tightly.  
“Derek!” he says, his voice trembling a little.  
No reaction.   
In blind rage Derek is punching, slashing and biting at Jackson.   
Stiles jams his left heel into the beta's foot and quickly repeats the movement on the other side. Cursing the wolf loosens his grip on Stiles' arm and he twists himself out of his grasp. He can feel the claws slice his skin.   
Quickly he runs over to the two fighting werewolves.  
“Derek!” he shouts when he's as close as he dares. “We kind of have a situation here!”  
Finally Derek snaps out of it. His gaze falls on the blood running down Stiles' throat and he steps towards him.   
“Are you okay?”  
“I'm fine. But we've got some company,” Stiles jerks his head in the direction of a still growling Isaac and the four other werewolves behind them.   
As if Derek discerns his surroundings only now, the Alpha clenches his jaw. He turns back to Jackson.  
“What is this?” His face turned back human, except for the glowing red eyes, he stares at him, disgusted and angry. “Are you scared you won't beat me on your own?” he snarls.  
“I'll beat you in my sleep, Hale.”  
“Okay, okay,” Stiles steps between them, holding both his hands up in a placating manner. “This has been fun but I think it's time we all calm down now.”  
“We're leaving!” Derek interrupts him. “We're going to do what you can't. We'll clean up your mess and you won't stop us!”  
Jackson narrows his eyes to slits. “Where do you think the rest of my pack is right now? You won't find her!”  
“Maybe he does have a heart,” Isaac says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
“Shut up!” Derek and Jackson shout simultaneously.  
“I don't care what you're doing!” Derek gnarls. “I never want to see you near her ever again!”  
“You're obviously incompetent. Look at what you've done so far. You're even working with the guy...”  
Jackson cuts Stiles short. “Screw you. You know what?” He points a finger at Derek. “Screw you too. In fact, screw each other. I'm not taking orders from either of you!”

 

Stiles is drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel. Isaac is lightly snoring in the back seat.   
They're following Jackson and his pack to Gerard's factory. Of course they could've just met there instead of trailing behind the motorbikes. But Jackson doesn't need to know that they've already been there. Derek isn't surprised that Stiles was able to annoy Jackson into doing this. But he still doubts that it's a good idea to work with him. Not even if this is the best way to keep an eye on him.  
Derek closes his eyes. And prays to all the Gods he doesn't believe in that this is going to work.   
If Gerard hurts Izabel in any way, Derek will kill kim.   
He probably already has. And he fears that Izabel is in a condition where she doesn't even care. Where she welcomes the pain.  
And even though Derek understands this, he always wished for her to get over it. To have a better life. This mental state had always made her reckless, bordering on self-destruction.  
Maybe he's acting selfish but Derek can't lose his family again. And Izabel is the only family he has left. Apart from Peter who doesn't really count and Isaac who is more like a pet most of the time.   
Derek knows how strangely heedless to danger Izabel can be. He should've seen this coming. He should have talked her out of it.   
He knows that there had been no other option. But he could have at least sensed that there was something off about her.  
Because there had to have been some sort of indicator. Something that he missed. But no matter how often he replays the memory of Thursday night...there's nothing there.   
Izabel had been her normally weird self. She had asked about the case, had pestered him about Stiles and flipped Derek off when he had asked about Jackson in return.   
Gosh, he is the worst Alpha ever. Maybe Theo should take his powers.   
'Don't go there,' he tells himself. 'Focus on Izabel.'  
But that doesn't help.  
Suddenly, Derek is remembering the way Kate had laughed in his face after he found out what she had done.   
He needs to punch something – or someone. Now!  
“It's not your fault, Derek!”  
Stiles has parked the car on the side of the road, just within spitting distance of the factory. He is looking at him with a concerned expression. Derek takes a deep breath and tries to shake the image of Izabel lying motionless in one of the cages.  
Stiles gently rests a hand on Derek's cheek and the werewolf slightly leans into the touch.  
“If anything, we both fucked up. I knew he is dangerous.”  
“Yeah, but I...”  
“I think it's Jackson's fault.” Isaac declares from the back seat.  
Stiles jumps a little. Derek sighs. He nearly forgot that the beta is here too.  
“Let's just get this over with before I have to puke. You guys are disgusting!”   
Isaac scrambles out of the car and Stiles rolls his eyes.   
“Why is he in your pack again?”

When Derek steps out of the car and walks up to Jackson, he's boiling with rage.   
“So, do you losers have a plan?”  
Before Derek can punch the grin off his face, Stiles jabs a finger at Jackson's face.  
“Ya bet your ass we do!”  
So that is why Stiles had been so quiet during the car ride.   
“You're going to go in there and start a fight with Gerard. Ask him for a raise or something. An when they're distracted, we'll go and find Izabel.”  
“You don't even know where they keep the captives.”  
Stiles clenches his fist and takes a step towards Jackson. Derek lays a hand on his shoulder.  
Jackson can't know that they've been here before.   
The fact that everyone (hopefully) still believes they're purely doing this out of friendship is the only thing keeping Izabel alive.  
If Gerard finds out who they work for, he will kill her without batting an eye. And from what they've found out about him so far, he's already capable of that as it is.  
“If you're so smart, why don't you just tell us?!”  
“I don't have to! Your plan sucks and I have a better one,” Jackson smiles boastfully.  
“We're going to pretend I captured Hale and deliver him to Gerard. He won't care about you two,” he nods at Stiles and Isaac. “He doesn't know my pack. And then I'll demand to bring the captive to his cell myself. Once we're down there, we knock out the guards and get Izabel.”  
“And how are we supposed to get back out?” Stiles crosses his arms.   
“We'll use your plan for that. Brandon will stay back and distract the guards by the docks. I'll head back up first and take care of Gerard. All you have do is get from the elevators to the loading docks.”  
“Does this mean I get to punch you in the face?” Derek asks.  
Jackson raises an eyebrow. “If you want this to be believable, I should be the one punching you.”  
“Your shirt should probably be a little bloody too.”  
Isaac steps up next to his Alpha and nods at Jackson's men.  
“Theirs too!” he says with a mischievous grin, his claws already visible.

 

When they walk towards the front entrance ten minutes later, Stiles is still complaining.  
“This plan sucks! This is never going to work!”  
“We can't waste any more time, Stiles. It'll be fine!”  
Derek's shirt is ripped and bloodied and the long slash on his leg is not properly healed yet.  
But the fight has left him calmer. Every muscle in his body is tense, he is alert and feels weirdly awake. He is ready for this.  
The panic that he felt in the car is gone.  
Jackson and his betas don't look half as bad as Derek does.   
Once they're within sight, two of them grab Derek and carry him, his feet dragging along as he feigns unconsciousness. Jackson doesn't slow down as they fall behind.  
The two guards posted outside the giant gate of the factory straighten themselves when he approaches. After exchanging a few words with the werewolf, they open the gate.  
Jackson beckons his men on and steps through.   
Stiles looks over at Isaac but the beta only shrugs and follows the others.   
This is it then.  
Stiles has seen all of this before. But somehow standing in front of the factory now, he feels very small.   
They enter the building through a metal door into the big hangar where Gerard is already waiting for them. The two men carrying him drop Derek to the floor. He lands with a thud, still keeping up the act.  
“Got you another Alpha! I think I'm on a winning streak,” Jackson says and steps up to Derek's body.   
“Good,” Gerard motions for his men to carry the body away.  
He is just as cold and creepy as Stiles imagined him to be. Instinctively he takes a step towards his boyfriend but Isaac grabs his arm. He shakes his head slightly. Stiles tries to wrestle his arm from Isaac's grip but the werewolf doesn't let go.  
Jackson doesn't budge either. He stands next to Derek, his arms crossed and fixates Gerard's henchmen with a steadfast gaze. They stop dead halfway between their boss and the werewolf.   
“I want to take him to his cell myself!”  
Gerard crosses his arms, mimicking Jackson's stance. “That is not going to happen.”  
“I caught him! I did all the work! And this one,” Jackson rests a foot on Derek's chest as if he had just slain a dragon. “Put up quite the fight. So if you don't mind I would like to toss this bastard into a cell myself!”  
Stiles watches Gerard anxiously. Their whole plan seems to crumble as the seconds stretch on.   
Finally, Gerard beckons his men back to his side.   
“Fine,” he says. “But this is the last time I'll tolerate this kind of behaviour.”   
He gives Jackson a stern look as if scolding a small child and adds, “But they're not going with you.”  
The old man nods at Jackson's pack and Stiles has to take a deep breath. His mouth tastes like bile and he can feel the anxiety rise in his stomach. Isaac's grip on his arm tightens.   
This is it. Their plan is going to come to nothing before it even started.   
But Jackson simply shrugs. Unfazed he steps over Derek's motionless body and starts to walk past Gerard towards the elevator.   
Isaac tugs at Stiles' arm, then lets go of him. As Jackson's pack files out of the room the two of them pick up Derek and follow their enemy deeper into the lion's den. 

 

Stiles pants for breath as they lower Derek to the ground. When the doors of the elevator close he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.  
During their walk here he had felt every single pair of eyes in the huge room following them. All of the guards, and there were a lot of them, carried machine guns. And they looked ready to use them.   
Apparently Gerard had enforced security since their break in.   
Stiles has dealt with situations like this before. But he is still shitting his pants every time. Seeing all these heavily armed men, he relives the New Agent Training program's hostage simulation. He can hear his superior yell 'Dead! Dead! And – you're dead, Stilinski!”  
Derek stands up and rests a hand on Stiles' shoulder.   
“Ready?”  
The brunette knows that he must reek of anxiety. But then again, that's nothing out of the ordinary for him.   
“Yeah.”  
Derek nods and turns to Jackson, “Did you have to be so dramatic?”  
Jackson rolls his eyes in response. “Let's do this.”  
Isaac pushes off the wall he had leaned against and wolfs out. The two Alphas follow suit and Stiles draws his gun.   
An unnecessary precaution as it turns out. The werewolves knock out the three guards positioned in this first corridor without any problems. Stiles helps them carry the bodies into an empty cell.   
Jackson is already descending the stairs. When the others catch up to him, two more guards are lying on the floor in front of the cages.  
Surprised Stiles notes that a lot more of them are empty than the last time he was down here.  
“You've got five minutes, maybe ten until Gerard radios the guards. I'll try to make it fifteen but I can't promise anything,” Jackson pushes past them. “And if worst comes to worst, I'll happily leave you behind. So...hurry.”  
With that he rushes back up the stairs and out of sight.   
“Great,” Stiles huffs.   
“What does she see in him?” Isaac shakes his head.   
Derek ignores them both and scans the cages in front of them.   
“She's not here.” Nodding at the corridor in front of them, he suggests, “We should split up.”  
“What?! No. No way. People who split up always die!”  
Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles. Isaac nods and begins to open every door in sight. Derek beckons Stiles to follow him and they walk towards the next turn and down the following hallway. 

 

Derek doesn't know how many turns they've taken or how many guards he has knocked out cold when they come to a stop. Every hallway looks exactly like the other. There are cells upon cells and all of them are filled with werewolves. Some of them are badly hurt, the smell of blood and chemicals hanging thick in the air. Others are lying in a corner, unmoving.   
Derek can smell the anxiety around his boyfriend. It has grown stronger with every new block of cells they've stumbled upon.   
“Can you smell her?” Stiles whispers next to him as they stop in front of a metal door.   
Derek swipes a key card he took from a guard through the card reader.   
“No, there's too many other smells down here. She's still too far away.”  
Stiles sighs. “This basement is a maze. How are we supposed to find her if you can't even catch a scent?!”  
“We'll find her!”  
Derek heads down the hallway in front of them. Something is different this time. There are only three cells here, all of them bigger than any they've come across before. They're all divided into two sections. In between them a gate can be opened via a control panel.   
“This is like a freaking zoo.”  
Stiles walks up and down the short corridor mumbling to himself.   
“What the hell is this? Some sort of arena? Why are they empty?”  
Derek opens the next door to an identical hallway. This time some of the cells are occupied.  
In the first one two wolves are lying in opposite corners of their cage. The gate in between them is closed. They are covered in claw marks and although both of them are unconscious, they are still wolfed out. The floor is speckled with blood and fecal matter.   
Stiles gags at the smell and quickly walks past the cell. But Derek stops and eyes the scene carefully.   
“Hey Derek, try the card on this one,” Stiles shouts.  
He's standing on his tip toes and peers through a circular window in the next door.  
“There's some more guards behind here. I think we're getting closer!”  
Derek walks over to him, the card ready, when his phone buzzes. 

“Time's nearly up? Where r u?”

Derek swears under his breath as he reads Isaac's text message. They have to turn back.   
“What's up?”  
Stiles nervously bites his lower lip.  
“We need to turn back. Time's up,” Derek sneaks a glance through the small window. Only one guard. “Maybe just one more hallway.”  
Stiles shakes his head. “I want to find her too, Derek. But Jackson WILL leave us behind. And I don't really see us getting out of this on our own,” he kicks the wall. “This sucks dick!”  
Derek clenches his fists. Of course Stiles is right. They aren't much help to Izabel if they get caught or shot. They will have to do more research and come back another time.   
“The girl's not here any more.”  
Derek spins around. He had completely forgotten to check the last cell.   
A boy, maybe one or two years younger than Stiles, stands behind the bars. His brown hair is tousled and his pants are ripped and stained. He's wearing neither a shirt nor shoes. His naked toes are crusted with dirt.  
Stiles steps forward. “What did you just say?”  
“The girl, they took her down to the lab yesterday,” he shudders. “If you're looking for her, I can help you.”   
He looks at them, his blue eyes pleading.   
“What lab?”  
“Down that way,” he points at the door with the window. “They've got some laboratories where they do weird stuff to you. Sometimes they only took my blood or pumped me full of adrenaline. And other times, I just woke up back in here and couldn't remember what happened.”  
He shrugs helplessly.   
Derek lets his eyes glow red, “What about Izabel?”  
The young werewolf shrinks back a little.   
“They brought her down here a couple of days ago. With this buff guy. I was out for a while but when I woke up again, the guy was gone. Izabel was really nice to me,” he smiles sadly. “And yesterday they took her to an examination. She hasn't been back, so I just assumed they brought her somewhere else,” he shrugs. “There's a lot more cells downstairs.”  
“There's another level?! Great! We'll never find her!” Stiles rakes his fingers through his hair. His phone buzzes. “And now our fifteen minutes are up.”  
Stiles turns on his heels and is about to leave when Derek catches him by the arm.   
“Wait!”  
“They're professional killers, Derek! They'll kill us! It's their profession.”  
Derek rolls his eyes. Then he turns back to face the imprisoned werewolf.   
“What's your name?”  
“Liam.”  
“Do you know how to fight, Liam?”  
“I have IED.”  
Derek looks at him incomprehensibly.  
“Anger management issues,” Liam clarifies.  
“That's an understatement,” Stiles mutters.  
Derek opens the cell with the guard's key card. Then he drops it on the floor and wolfs out again.  
“Let's get out of here!”


	15. Obscure -  not clear and difficult to understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pack discovers Izabel has been keeping secrets from them.

Derek can hear six faint heartbeats inside the concrete building as he drives past it. He parks the car at the next corner. Now they only have to wait until Jackson's men leave. 

Derek knows he can beat the young Alpha but he's not stupid enough to believe that he can beat his whole pack. Still, he has to get to Jackson soon. He needs to find out what that bastard really wants. Why the hell he turned Izabel. And why he doesn't seem to care that she's locked up now.  
If Derek had turned someone, he would make sure his new beta is around him at all times. New werewolves are unpredictable, vicious at times. They need training and guidance.  
He glances over at Isaac who lounges on the passenger seat.  
And asks himself why he hasn't extended his pack yet. Yes, Isaac had been a pain in the ass. Still is.  
But he had never even considered to turn Izabel. She is perfectly capable of defending herself as it is and after the matter of her brother...  
“So you're uh...you're dating Stiles now?” Isaac turns his gaze to his Alpha.  
Derek keeps a straight face and slowly moves his head to look at him. He blinks. Doesn't say a word.  
“Sorry uh...” Isaac clears his throat. “It's bad timing, I'm sorry.”  
Derek turns his head back to watch the building on the other side of the road.  
“I'll just ask Stiles later. It's fine,” Isaac adds.  
Derek looks at him again. Turning his head in slow motion, he raises both eyebrows.  
Isaac's eyes glint with a slight tinge of panic. “Or never.” he nods to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm good with never!”  
  


 

“You've been down there for six MONTHS?”  
“Yep,” Liam shrugs.  
“What the hell are they doing?”  
“At first they injected me with all kinds of chemicals and had us fight each other. The strongest wolves were taken down to another level for more experiments.”  
“What the - “  
“And then they started to ask questions about the supernatural. Mostly those scientist dudes. But I don't know anything about werewolves,” he shrugs again. “I had just been turned. I barely knew how to control the shift.”  
“You're an IED. Who gives superpowers to a walking time bomb?!”  
Liam shoots him an annoyed look.  
“Can you control it now?” Stiles looks at the young werewolf sceptically.  
“Yes,” he says through gritted teeth. “One of the other wolves taught me how to do it.”  
“That's something,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “What else?”  
“I don't know. It's not like they told me everything.”  
Stiles rolls his eyes again.  
“They injected me with weird stuff, had me fight other wolves and sometimes they'd cut me open,” he shrugs as if that's normal. “That's it.”  
“Okay,” Stiles sighs. Derek can interrogate Liam later. They have other things to do.  
“Come on then. We've got work to do.”  
Stiles opens the door to get out of his jeep but Liam crosses his arms and shakes his head.  
“I'm not going anywhere with you. I appreciate you getting me out of there but I'm going home now.”  
“And where would that be? Town hall records say you have no family.”  
“Wha -”  
“Okay Liam, now you've seen a lot of confusing things tonight. And more confusing things are going to happen because of the confusing things that happened tonight. Do you understand?”  
“Not really,” Liam looks at him with a furious look in his eyes.  
“Well, all will be explained later. Right now, you need to calm down and come with me. There is something we need to do!”  
“Who the hell are you? You had no right! My family's none of your business!”  
“We let you out of that weird supernatural torture chamber!”  
“And then you kidnapped me.”  
“Just to clarify - Derek kidnapped you, I simply aided and abided.”  
“Well, I don't care. I'm leaving!”  
And with that Liam jumps out of the car and stalks off.  
“Great. Awesome. Great. Great!” Stiles mutters and runs after him.  
“Liam, wait! Where are you even going?”  
“Nanya.”  
“What?” Stiles blocks Liam's way.  
“None of your business!”  
“You, you - “ Stiles angrily jabs a finger at Liam. “We're trying to help you, you little runt!”  
“By kidnapping me?”  
“We're accepting you into the pack, dude!”  
  
  
Half an hour has passed when four men finally leave the hideout. Two against two. That'll do!  
Derek nudges Isaac awake and they sneak into the building.  
Jackson is leaning over a map when they find him. His beta is nowhere to be seen but Derek's sure he'll be around soon. Nodding at Isaac once, he leaves him standing in the hall and enters the room alone.  
“Did you miss me already?” Jackson sneers without looking up.  
Derek grabs a fistful of his shirt and jerks him closer.  
“What the hell,” he says in a low voice, their faces mere inches apart. “Are you playing at here?”  
“I suggest you take your hands off me now.”  
“Listen you little punk,” Derek tightens his grip. “You're going to tell me why you're handing over all these werewolves to a fucking hunter. Now!”  
“Or what?”  
Derek lets go of Jackson's shirt and the young Alpha takes a step back from the table. He pretends to brush dust off his shoulder.  
“You know Derek, you should spruce up your people skills. You'll never find a girl like this!” he wears a smug expression now. “Oh, that's right - you swing for a different team. But you still play ball, don't you?”  
Derek jumps over the table. And knees Jackson in the gut. Then he sinks his claws into his side.  
“I'm not here for small talk.”  
Jackson lets out a growl but doesn't say anything. Just a moment later there's commotion in the hall. A fight erupts between Isaac and the other beta.  
Derek retracts his claws when he feels Jackson's own talons digging into his shoulder. He takes a big swing at his opponent's jaw but Jackson ducks down and trips him up.  
He towers over Derek and the hatred is dripping from his voice as he says, “I don't owe you any explanation, Hale! You don't own me or her.”  
“Neither do you!”  
Next thing they're both lying on the ground crusading for dominance. One moment Derek has Jackson pinned to the ground.  
“I never said I owned her but at least I care what happens to her!”  
“So do I!”  
The next minute Jackson is sitting on Derek's chest and deals blow after blow.  
“You don't know the least about me. I'm protecting my pack. This is my territory – MINE! And no one will take it from me! Not Raeken. Not you. NO ONE!” he yells.  
By the time Derek finally regains the upper hand, a heel on Jackson's throat, they're both covered in bruises and blood. Their own and each others.  
But just as he opens his mouth to say something, Jackson drives a knife into his calf.  
  
  
“Izabel is a spy?” Liam raises an eyebrow. “And you know about the supernatural?!”  
Stiles sighs and just nods.  
“But you're not a wolf.”  
“Wow, nothing gets past those keen wolf senses, huh?”  
“Do you know how to hunt?”  
“What? NO!”  
“How do you stay alive then?”  
“Look Liam, I'm all for exchanging worldly wisdom but I'm kinda busy here.”  
Stiles is bent over Izabel's laptop. He's trying to follow Lydia's instructions to hack it. And failing miserably.  
Frustrated he slams his fist on the table.  
“What kind of person doesn't use their dog's name as a password?!” he cries out in despair. “And where the hell is her hacking equipment?”  
“She's a hacker too?”  
Liam is sitting next to Stiles and tries to juggle with some lemons.  
“Uh huh.”  
“So, about the hunting...you do know about wolfsbane and mountain ash and all that, don't you?”  
“Uh huh.”  
Stiles is biting his lower lip in concentration. Lydia's instructions on his phone are long forgotten. He has resorted to the trusty trial-and-error method now. Thankfully he has at least been able to override the password security. This would take more than three attempts.  
“I seriously doubt her password is 'sourwolf'.”  
“Shut up.”  
Liam snickers and gets up. He aimlessly walks around the kitchen, opens a cupboard and closes it.  
“This is stupid. You're never going to guess the password, dude!”  
Stiles doesn't react and proceeds to type furiously. Liam peers over his shoulder.  
“Who the hell is Theo?”  
The agent pushes him away without averting his gaze from the screen.  
“Why don't we take the laptop to that Lydia chick?”  
“I can do it. Just sit down and don't touch anything!”  
Caught in the act, Liam sets down the lemon squeezer he is inspecting. He doesn't sit down though. Instead he wanders off into the living room and checks out Izabel's bookshelf.  
Two minutes and fifteen failed attempts to crack the password, he saunters back into the kitchen.  
“What's this?”  
Liam holds up an incense holder.  
“Ugh...I said don't touch anything. Give it to me!”  
Stiles grabs it, drops the item on the table and turns back to the laptop in front of him.  
“You know what? Why don't you make some coffee, Liam? At least you'd be doing something useful this time.”  
“I'm not your slave,” Liam snorts but does it regardless.  
Stiles can really use some caffeine now. He hadn't slept last night. Partly because he knows they could have done all of this sooner if he had noticed earlier. If he had realized that something was off about the way Izabel had left in such a hurry...  
And now that Liam has told him what happens down in that basement, he feels like he might actually be sick. Whatever is happening to Izabel right now, could have been prevented. He could have prevented it.  
Stiles is the smart one. He is the brain in this operation. Still, he has missed the obvious. He has discarded it as irrelevant. And now Izabel has to pay for his mistake.  
“What the fuck?” Liam drops something and Stiles jumps at the clanking noise.  
“I swear Liam...if you're breaking one more thing...” he turns around in his chair to find Liam staring into Izabel's coffee tin.  
Rolling his eyes, he gets up and wrenches it from him. The container is only half filled with ground coffee. A little notebook peeks out of the powder. He picks it up gingerly and sets the tin down on the counter. The two young men share a confused look.  
Then Stiles shakes the excess coffee powder from the pages and opens the notebook. The pages are covered with a mass of scribble. The writing is so tiny Stiles has to squint his eyes to decipher the messy notes.  
The first few pages are filled with information about Jackson's hideout. A full account of the layout, their arsenal and the pack's hierarchy is followed by sketches of the building's blueprint and different weapons.  
“These drawings are actually pretty good,” Liam whispers as they flick through the notes.  
“Yeah,” Stiles whispers back. It feels like they're doing something forbidden. As if Izabel could barge in any second and scold them for invading her privacy. “She logged everything in here. Everything.”  
“How long was she with them? This is crazy...” Liam points at the profile of one of the pack members. Izabel has listed everything from the next of kin to blood type and favourite food.  
“Months.”  
Stiles sifts through the profiles quickly until he spots Jackson's name.  
There's an unfinished painted portrait on the left page. On the other side the writing is tinier than before, some words so close to each other they have merged into one. It's not only the basic background check. Izabel has noted down anything and everything she has observed. Jackson's profile stretches on for several pages. On the last one Izabel has circled a sentence in red colour.  
“Dude! He drives a Porsche,” Liam exclaims. “They so are dealing drugs!”  
Stiles snorts. Of course that's the only thing that stuck with him.  
“He also has a dirty motorbike and will hopefully break his neck soon.”  
“It'll heal.”  
  
  
At that moment, Stiles' phone rings.  
“What happened?”  
“Nothing happened!” Derek sounds annoyed. “Where are you?”  
Something rustles and Stiles can hear him say 'Don't get blood on the seats.'.  
“BLOOD?” he yelps. “What the hell did you do?”  
“Jackson played foul!” he hears Isaac yell.  
“JACKSON?”  
“We need answers, Stiles. I'm hurt so just tell me -”  
“What do you mean YOU'RE HURT?! You said you were going to take Isaac home.”  
Stiles angrily presses the phone to his ear and walks into Izabel's bedroom. He knows that Liam can still hear everything he's saying but the illusion of privacy makes it easier for him to yell at Derek.  
“I lied.”  
“WHAT THE FUCK DEREK?! We've talked about this. I could've come with you!”  
“Stiles!”  
“No. Don't 'Stiles' me! You went to see Jackson behind my back.”  
“Stiles I can't have this conversation right now. Where are you?”  
“We wouldn't be having this conversation if you would listen to me for once!” he huffs. “I am exactly where I told you I would be. At Izabel's. And Liam and I found out something relevant.”  
“That's great.”  
Stiles listens for hints of sarcasm in Derek's voice. But when he decides that his boyfriend only sounds tired and drained, he becomes anxious.  
“How bad is it?” he asks softly.  
“Izabel has some remedies for werewolves. I think she keeps the box in the bathroom,” Derek replies, completely ignoring his question. “We'll be there soon.”  
Then he hangs up and Stiles rolls his eyes at the mobile phone.  
He hurries into the bathroom and starts to wreak havoc.  
“Why isn't he healing?” Liam leans against the doorframe.  
“A wound inflicted by an Alpha heals more slowly. And apparently Jackson played foul....whatever that means.”  
“Wolfsbane probably.”  
In the last drawer he rips open Stiles finally finds the box. There are three claw marks on the metal lid. He carries it to the living room. Together the wolf and the human inspect its contents.  
Neatly labelled bottles are lined up next to a small handheld blow torch, thread and needle. Liam takes out some band aids and gauze.  
“What are they for?”  
“Izabel was human till recently,” Stiles shrugs.  
They take everything out of the box and place the mistletoe, wolfsbane, mountain ash and various other herbs neither of them has heard of before on the table. A single sheet of paper lies at the bottom. In Izabel's handwriting information about all of the plants and powders is listed neatly.  
  


 

Derek and Isaac stumble into the apartment. Although the Alpha looks worse, he is basically carrying Isaac into the living room. With a groan the beta sinks into an armchair.  
Stiles rushes over to his boyfriend and guides him to the couch.  
“What happened to you?” Liam turns up his mouth in disgust and pokes Isaac's side.  
“He's fine,” Derek says through gritted teeth. “Jackson slashed his shoulder. It's healing a little slower.”  
“And what's this?”  
Stiles carefully peels the fabric from a wound on Derek's chest. The shirt is soaked with blood and sticks to the cut. A purple glow emanates from the ripped skin.  
“The fucker used a wolfsbane blade.”  
“I'm not fine! My skin is on fire.” Isaac whines.  
“Shut up!” Stiles mumbles in concentration.  
“Yeah, stop being a whiny bitch,” Liam adds.  
“You're the bitch here,” Isaac retorts. “Stray!”  
“What the hell is your problem, man?” Liam clenches his fists. “Do you want a black eye to match that cut on your shoulder?!”  
“ENOUGH!” Derek growls.  
Both betas fall silent and Liam moves to sit as far from Isaac as possible. They continue to send each other hostile stares.  
Derek takes his shirt off, groaning in discomfort at the motion. Then he rolls his jeans up and looks at the puncture wound on his calf.  
“Okay,” Stiles turns his gaze away from the blood. “What do I do?”  
Derek nods at the blow torch. “Remember when I got shot?”  
“How could I forget?!”  
“You have to cauterise the wound.”  
Stiles has grown slightly paler. With shaking hands he picks up the device and turns it on. He shrinks back from the blue flame and nearly drops the torch. With a look at the wound he grimaces and holds the flame to Derek's skin.  
The smell of burning flesh makes him want to gag. All colour is draining from his face now.  
“Ugh, I hate this!”  
Derek raises an eyebrow. The wound is starting to close now that the purple veins around it slowly retreat.  
“So much blood...” a shiver runs through Stiles' body.  
Derek raises his other eyebrow too. “You faint at the sight of blood?!”  
“No, but I might at the sight of your bone sticking out of your leg,” his boyfriend replies with a glance at the deep hole in Derek's calf.  
“It's not sticking out,” Isaac groans. “You can't even see the bone, dude.”  
  
  
Half an hour later the four of them are gathered in the living room. Derek and Isaac are clean and mostly healed again.  
“Why would he have wolfsbane on him? I don't get it,” Liam asks for the fifth time.  
“Because he's evil! And crazy!” Stiles replies. “Isn't that reason enough?!”  
“He may be crazy but he's not stupid,” Derek says. “If Gerard is paying him with hunter weapons, it's for a very good reason.”  
“A good reason?” Stiles looks at him with big eyes. “Have you gone mad? What “good reason” could he possibly have to deliver werewolves to a lunatic and hoard toxic weapons?!”  
“He's just obsessed with this whole territory thing,” Isaac sounds bored. “Like we're actually animals or something.”  
Stiles shakes his head in doubt.  
“I don't know. He seems fishy! Why would he tell us the truth?!”  
“He wasn't lying,” Derek states.  
“Well that solves nothing,” Liam rolls his eyes.  
“Okay, “Stiles gets up and starts pacing. “So maybe he believes that he's doing it to reclaim territory or to protect his pack. But there has to be more to it! Izabel wrote that he filled two garages with those weapons. Two! Seems a bit excessive if you ask me...”  
“She wrote it?”  
“We found a notebook,” Liam beams at Derek proudly. “She wrote down everything about Jackson and his pack!”  
Stiles nods towards the coffee table. The notebook lies, carelessly discarded, under the wolf first aid kit. He picks it up, flips it open and hands it to Derek.  
The Alpha glances at the drawing of Jackson with a frown and scans the text. He turns the page and his eyes narrow.  
“What?” Isaac asks. “What is it?”  
Derek looks up and darts a glance at Stiles. “I'm not sure.”  
“Well, what does it say?”  
Stiles starts absent-mindedly cleaning the bottles of herbs away. “Izabel describes Jackson in there. It's weird though because she doesn't seem to think he's actually interested in killing Theo – or a bigger territory for that matter,” he shrugs. “I'm not sure she knows what he really wants either.”  
Derek looks back down at the text and wrinkles his forehead.  
  
_> > Jackson is actually a better Alpha than I expected. Weirdly perceptive for someone who's a complete ass most of the time. He genuinely cares for his betas. I'm not sure if that's because there is something good and pure somewhere inside him or if it's werewolf instinct. _  
The pack is completely loyal to him. Everyone has been saved by Jackson one way or the other. They really are a family.<<  


“Lovely,” Isaac interrupts. “How does that help us?”  
Stiles rolls his eyes and takes the notebook from Derek. He scans the pages, looking for a certain paragraph.  
“She wrote something about his plan and then there was that other part...she must have been turned at that point, it's something about his smell.”

Derek perks up at that.

  
_> >Jackson isn't the least concerned about human casualties. This mission is getting out of hand and he's doing nothing. I confronted him with Brandon's behaviour towards Stiles. He claims that's what happens when you butt into werewolf business. As if that's not exactly what I'm doing here!_  
I'm concerned his obsession with the supernatural is clouding his judgement. This war he's waging isn't about territory any more. He has stopped sending the betas out of town to find more wolves for Gerard. All his energy is focused on the chimeras.  
And Gerard...every conversation with the hunters fills Jackson with rage. But there's none of that rancour in his voice when he talks about Theo's pack. It's like he hates Gerard and envies the chimeras.<<  
  
“And then there's this bit at the end,” Stiles flips two pages and scratches his neck. “It doesn't make any sense to me. Maybe you'll understand something.”  
  
_> >That bastard turned me! He fucking turned me! I had to spend the last three days with Nick. He taught me how to control the shift. I had to learn to conceal my scent too. Jackson doesn't want anyone to find out that I'm a werewolf now (probs bc of Derek). _  
The weirdest thing about this whole disaster is that he's my Alpha now. I feel weirdly protective towards him now. And I hate it!<<

 

“She learned to control her shift in three days???” Liam looks at Stiles with wide eyes.  
“It's not impossible,” Derek crosses his arms. “A stealthy mind and a strong anchor is all you really need. And she was around her Alpha the whole time. In a pack you draw strength from each other.”  
“But the scent thing's weird, right?” Isaac shakes his head. “How does it even work?”  
“I've heard of it before. There is a pack up North who lives in hiding by completely concealing their scent. They stick to themselves and no one bothers them that way. But this,” Derek muses. “This is different. Not all of Jackson's betas conceal their scent. I'm not sure they can. Who is that Nick?”  
“Jackson's second in command,” Stiles turns back to a profile close to the front of the notebook.  
  
_> >Nick is the only wolf that Jackson actually turned himself. He's his right hand man and pretty much the dad of the pack. He's also the most troubled. Old hospital records state that he has been treated for manic depression before he was turned. He confessed to me that he still experiences panic attacks sometimes. I guess, chemical imbalances in your brain leave a mark that even supernatural healing can't erase.<<_  
  
No one says a word when Stiles lowers the notebook.  
“I...” he starts after a minute.  
“A depressed werewolf, damn!” Isaac interrupts him. “This gets more fucked up by the minute.”  
“That's not everything,” Stiles jumps to the last entry.  
  
_> >These heightened senses are killing me. I'm constantly on edge and every tiny sound sets my ear drums on fire. My head is a mess and I feel like ripping my own skin off. _  
And the smells! Gosh, I don't know if I can leave my apartment ever again. 

_Speaking of smells...I never thought I'd say this but right now nothing smells better than the pack. I went to see Derek today and his apartment smelled heavenly. Something inside of me did refused to admit it but his scent is a lot more reassuring than Jackson's. I'm sure I shouldn't feel this way since Jackson is MY ALPHA now but there is something seriously wrong with him.  
His scent is extremely off. He doesn't even smell like a wolf. And then there's the whole paralysing me thing. I'm beginning to wonder if he isn't a werewolf after all. Of course, he has claws and red eyes and furry ears but I'm just not sure any more. What is he? <<_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys, I'm sorry I haven't uploaded in a while but I've got my lab rotations keeping me busy at the moment. I'll upload more frequently once that's over. 
> 
> In the meanwhile, enjoy this chapter! I hope you like it xx


	16. Pugnacious -  having a strong desire to argue or fight with other people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pack confronts Jackson again and Izabel suffers from Gerard's experiments.

Izabel is in a different cell when she wakes up. Alone.   
The only sounds are the electric buzzing from the light bulbs in the hall and a gurgling in the pipes. None of the scents she is able to catch is familiar.  
In the semi-darkness of her cell Izabel bleeds on the concrete floor. She feels a throbbing pain in her left leg and her shoulder. Blood is running down her cheek and dripping on her knee.   
But she doesn't move.   
The wolfsbane in her veins has reduced the incessant stream of werewolf energy to a small flickering flame of unease in the pit of her stomach.   
Izabel can already feel the the drug wear off slowly.   
Nevertheless she is still drowsy and her senses are clouded in an uncomfortable way.  
Maybe they gave her another sedative as well.   
There is no way of knowing how many days she has been down here. There is no telling the time.   
For all Izabel knows months could have passed by.   
She does however know exactly how many times she has been taken to the lab. And that they have given her 43 injections – while she was conscious at least.   
Whatever sick experiments they are conducting here, the survival of their guinea pigs doesn't seem to be a priority.  
Izabel feels weak and dirty and even though her stomach has stopped rumbling a while ago, the hunger is still gnawing away at her. Even worse than that is the thirst. Her lips are dry and chapped and the small water bottle on the floor seems to mock the girl.  
She doesn't dare to take another sip just yet. She doesn't know when they will bring her another one. 

Until now she had been in lock-up next to Theo. Izabel hadn't talked to him though. Not a word.   
Partly because she didn't know what to say but mostly to keep herself from slipping up.   
And when she didn't react to anything he said, Theo had eventually stopped talking too.  
Just now, sitting in complete silence, her own heartbeat unnaturally loud in her ears, does Izabel realize how nice it had been to hear him talk. To know that he was there, to hear him breath.  
This complete silence feels like a threat. The calm before the storm.   
And the knowledge that there is no way of escaping this basement makes it all so much worse.   
Sure, Izabel has tried. Just to be drugged and tortured again.  
She can only hope that Stiles and Derek solve the case and take Gerard's operation down soon. 

Izabel's wolf is restless but now another beast is awake inside of her as well. And she fears that it is stronger than the wolf.   
She rests her head against the wall and sighs. Closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Runs a finger along the edge of her wound; a deep cut running from the inside of her knee across her thigh.  
Small traces of purple wolfsbane stick to the raw flesh.   
Izabel feels the blood rushing through her veins. Her skin is on fire.  
She flicks her claws out and back inside multiple times. Looks at them, almost in trance.  
Then she breaths out and digs the claws of her right hand into the unscathed skin next to the cut. Her eyes glow a golden yellow and it's as if she leaves her body. Watching herself like a stranger Izabel drives her claws into her own flesh multiple times. And welcomes the pain like an old friend. 

 

“I can punch the truth out of him,” Liam suggests enthusiastically.   
“Yeah right,” Isaac yawns. “He won't talk.”  
“You want me to demonstrate it to you?”  
“Guys!” Stiles rolls his eyes. “No one is beating anyone up. You're going to talk to him and then I'll trap him in a mountain ash circle. Easy peasy.”  
“I don't think it's going to be easy.”  
“Oh, you don't think you can do it?” Liam snarls at Isaac.   
“Shut up Liam, we don't have time for your petty fighting. Get your shit together, you guys are brothers now.”  
“What?” Isaac sends Stiles an annoyed look. “No, we're not!”  
“That's how this thing works, isn't it? You're pack. A pack is a family – I think that makes you brothers!” Stiles grins broadly at the two betas and nods at himself in approval.   
“A sucky family,” Liam mutters.   
“Maybe a little dysfunctional,” Stiles dismisses him with a flourishing of his hand. “Nothing that can't be solved.”  
Derek watches the scene in front of him with amusement. They're still sitting in Izabel's apartment. He's petting Mikey's head while Stiles is trying to come up with a plan. After reading more of Izabel's notes they had agreed that Jackson needs to tell the truth. Soon.   
While Derek is more than happy to go along with Liam's plan of beating the bastard senseless, he knows that Isaac has a point too. Jackson is clever. It would take wit to get the truth out of him. And that – well, that's Stiles' department.  
He lets the betas argue for a little while longer. Both of them are looking at their Alpha for approval every time they propose a new solution. But Derek keeps a straight face. The way they pant for his praise is pathetic.   
It does warm his heart however to see Liam accept him as his Alpha so quickly. When he had seen him in that cell, Derek had felt an immediate urge to protect the kid. He feels stupid to even think about this but the boost of power and confidence this extension of the pack is offering, actually makes him happy. Which he feels guilty for because Izabel is still locked up in that hell hole. And from the few details he had gotten out of Liam, it's even worse than he imagined.   
“I'm not being bait,” Liam protests now.   
Isaac smirks. “It's not you. Your butt is the distraction.”  
“You can kiss each other's butts later. We should get going now,” Derek finally interjects.   
“And whose plan wins?” Liam looks at him with puppy eyes.  
“Stiles' of course,” Derek gives Mikey one last pat on the head. “And now get in the car!”  
As Liam and Isaac walk to the door, both sulking silently, Stiles crosses his arms and scans Derek's torn appearance.   
“Are you sure you're up for this? You're not properly healed yet,” he nods at the cut on his chest. It's not completely healed, a small gap of pink skin still showing through the ripped shirt.  
“I'm fine,” Derek runs a hand through his hair and gets up.   
He closes the space between them and stands in front of his boyfriend. Stiles bites his lip and looks down at his feet.   
“I'm sorry,” Derek says after a while. “I should've told you.”  
“It's fine,” Stiles says softly.   
“No, it's not. I nearly lost it when you were hurt and now I put you through the exact same thing without thinking how you might feel. I'm sorry!” he scratches his neck awkwardly. Who knew relationships could be this emotional?! “I let my fear of losing Izabel take over everything. But you're just as important to me,” he adds quietly.  
Stiles looks up at him and smiles. “I could get used to this,” he says.  
“Don't.”  
Stiles kisses the grin off Derek's face.   
“What's this now?”  
Hugging him, the human mumbles the answer into Derek's shoulder. “Affection.”  
“Disgusting. Do it again!”

 

“You're awake. Good!”   
Theo rubs his neck and looks down at her sheepishly. Izabel is lying on the floor, she can feel the cold concrete press against her back.  
“What are you doing here?”  
She tries to stand up but her legs won't hold any weight yet. She scoots away from him. Why are they in the same cell? This can't be happening. Izabel doesn't meet his gaze.  
Theo shoots her a concerned look.   
“You okay?”  
“No. No no no no no.”, she says under her breath. More to herself than to him really. She had successfully ignored the chimera so far. But there was no avoiding him now.  
“Izabel..”  
“No, you - !” her face contorts into a pained expression. She doesn't know what to say to him. There is nothing that could express the turmoil inside her.   
Theo comes closer and reaches out for Izabel.   
“Stay away from me!”  
She attempts to crawl even further away from him but a sharp pain shoots through her left leg. She feels stupid. Stupid, weak and foolish! The wolf in her wants to lash out at Theo. To hurt him worse than he hurt her. The animal in Izabel wants to claw at his chest, scratch his perfect face and his stupidly beautiful eyes.  
“Izzy!”  
“No.”, shaking her head she still refuses to look at him. “You betrayed me.”, she adds more quietly.  
“I'm sorry. I never meant to...”  
“NO...don't. If you apologize I'm gonna feel like a jerk for not forgiving you!”  
“I understand if you hate me.”  
“Hate you?!”, she laughs dryly.  
“I wish I could. I tried so hard. I can't love you, Theo!”, her voice cracks as she says his name and finally looks him in the eye. “I can't love you, I can't hate you and it's ruining my life! I need to nothing you. I need to feel absolutely nothing for you. I need to not think about you, to not care about you at all!”  
“But you do.”  
“What?”  
Izabel shakes her head and rips her gaze from him. There is blood on her feet again.   
“You do care.”, Theo whispers.   
“That's the problem! You betrayed us. You manipulated the other chimeras, you tried to kill Derek. Hell, you wanted to turn me – against my will!”, she slams a fist against his chest.  
“Damn it, Theo! You made me kill my brother!”, she angrily wipes a tear from her cheek. “You used me. And I still defended you. I missed you. And I hate myself for that!”  
Theo reaches out to touch her but Izabel slaps his hand away.   
“Don't touch me!”  
The chimera takes a step back.   
“I didn't want to believe that it was really you leading the Gringos. I never checked if you really did come back here! I don't know if I wanted you to or not,” Izabel is yelling now. “Two years and you didn't even call!”  
“I know I've hurt you,” Theo casts down his eyes. “I've made a lot of mistakes but I've changed. You have to believe me!”  
“I'll believe it when I see it,” Izabel says bitterly. 

 

“Did you need another beating?” Jackson stops three feet in front of Derek.  
“You could definitely do with one,” Liam takes a step forward and raises a fist.  
Derek casually rests a hand on his shoulder and moves past his beta.   
“I called you here to talk. On neutral ground. We can't keep fighting like this if we want to get Izabel back,” he crosses his arms. “You DO want her back, don't you?”  
Jackson rolls his eyes, “I don't negotiate with thugs.”  
This time, Isaac steps forward.   
“The only thug around here is you!”  
Jackson rolls his eyes and turns to leave.  
“Wait!” Derek sends Isaac a warning look. “You know your way around that factory. At least tell us where they keep her.”  
“If I knew that, I would have already rescued her.”  
The abhorrence against them is still obvious in Jackson's voice but he turns back around to face Derek.  
“Believe it or not, I want her back as much as you do, Hale! But it's not that easy. Gerard is unpredictable and if something looks queer, we don't know what he's going to do to her.”  
“So help us, Mr. Clever!” Liam butts in.   
“Uh, what a burn.”  
Derek closes his eyes in exasperation for a moment. He really wants to smack Isaac right now. What did he do to deserve this?!  
A smirk creeps across Jackson's face. “I see you found another pet.”  
“I'm not a pet!”  
As Liam storms past him, Derek seizes him by the collar. At the same moment a gunshot echoes across the parking lot.   
Jackson staggers backwards as the bullet hits him in the shoulder. He presses a hand against the wound and looks at Derek chagrined.   
“What the hell?!”  
“Sorry!” Stiles steps out from between two cars waving his gun about wildly. “I was aiming for your knee,” He shrugs and takes his place next to Derek, the gun still pointed at Jackson.   
“That's going to burn a little, I'm afraid. You're not the only one with hunter weapons.”  
“What happened to 'we wait until he's ready to talk'?”  
“I'm an impatient person,” Stiles shrugs. “And he's a dick.”  
“What the hell do you want?”  
Jackson watches them with narrowed eyes as Isaac walks towards him and throws a handful of mountain ash at him which falls into a perfect circle around the Alpha.  
“As I said,” Derek stands right in front of the barrier. “We just want to talk. And this time you will tell us the truth.”

 

“Why the hell do they keep fucking me up and never take you?”  
Izabel groans and sends Theo an annoyed look. He's sitting in the opposite corner of the cell.   
“And where the fuck are my clothes?”   
She gets up from the ground and looks down at her nearly naked body. The scientists stripped her down to her underwear.   
“Pervs,” she mutters under her breath. Then the brunette sits back down and hugs her knees to her chest. “Stop staring!”  
Theo chuckles. “Don't worry. If I see something I haven't before seen before, I'll throw a dollar at it.”  
Izabel rolls her eyes and flips him the bird. Her cellmate gets up and pulls his shirt over his head.   
“Do you have to do that?”  
And there it is, Theo's infamous smirk. Izabel quickly looks away from his face. But staring at his well defined abs is no better. He walks over to her and drops the black shirt in her lap.  
“Who's staring now?”  
Rolling her eyes again, Izabel stands up and puts the top on. It's more like a mini dress on her.   
“Thanks.”  
Theo is still standing in front of her. She can feel his body heat radiating towards her and wants nothing more than to feel his strong arms around her one more time.  
“You're welcome, gorgeous.”  
“Theo.”  
“Okay okay okay,” he steps back holding his hands up in defeat, still smiling. Then his face falls.  
“What is that?”

 

“I'm not going to tell you people anything. You shot me!”  
“And I'll shoot again.” Stiles raises his gun. “And this time I'll aim better. So talk, fucker!”  
Jackson wolfs out and lunges towards him but the mountain ash barrier throws the werewolf backwards. He's trapped.   
“Just talk already,” Isaac is bored again.   
“The basement has four levels. The first two only have holding cells. They keep the backup wolves there. On the third level are the labs and the cells on the lowest floor are reserved for their experiments.”  
“That's not what...”  
“What experiments?” Stiles interrupts Derek.  
“Behavioural experiments. Gerard is testing modified types of wolfsbane.”  
“What about the chimeras? What does he need them for?”  
“I don't know,” Jackson crosses his arms.  
“I don't believe you,” Derek copies his stance. They stare at each other for a while.  
“I didn't ask. I was more than happy to hand those monsters over. Serves the bastard right.”  
Stiles looks at Derek, confusion evident on his face. But his boyfriend wordlessly holds eye contact with Jackson.   
“What did he do?” Stiles finally blurts out.  
Jackson slowly turns his gaze towards the human. “He murdered two of my betas!”  
Derek raises an eyebrow. Liam gasps theatrically behind them.  
“He murdered them. So now I'm taking his pack from him in return. I'm protecting my pack. That's what an Alpha does, you dimwits!”

 

Theo grabs Izabel's arm, “What the fuck is that?”  
“My tattoo?” She yanks her arm from his grasp.   
“That's not what I mean.”  
For the first time Theo forces himself to look at her properly. He takes it all in. The dark circles under her eyes, the dirt, blood.   
They had lead Izabel away way more times than they'd come for him. And someone would always toss her back inside the cell with new injuries. Most of the time she had been unconscious.  
Sometimes the scientists would treat the wounds before inflicting new ones on her.   
But not all of them. The cut on Izabel's thigh is still glowing a faint shade of purple. Since they had been locked up together again, Theo hasn't noticed much improvement in it's healing.   
The bleeding had already stopped when he first saw Izabel again but the flesh is still raw and pink and looks like the tiniest movement could rip it further open again.  
Above the crook of her arm Theo spots a fresh purple tattoo of the Argents' fleur-de-lis. The lily probably isn't tattooed with wolfsbane, even though he suspects the paint was at least laced with it, but it's colour alone seems to mock his werewolf existence.   
The hunters branded her like cattle.   
But even more concerning are the three blue injection sites under the tattoo. Theo tries to touch them again, get a closer look. But Izabel clutches her arm close to her side and stares at him menacingly.   
“Don't fucking touch me!”  
“Iz, they did something...that's not normal. Wolfsbane wounds aren't supposed to be blue!”  
Theo reaches out for her arm once more. “Just let me look at it.”  
But before he can touch her, Izabel wolfs out at him. She buries her claws in his shoulder. Theo swerves to the side and only just avoids her teeth.   
With supernatural speed Izabel swivels around and hits him right on the nose. Theo doesn't fight back. He dodges her claws, bobs and weaves her punches.  
“Izabel, what are you doing?”  
But the she-wolf doesn't react. She doesn't slow down, doesn't hesitate. Izabel comes at him with unaltered force and determination. Her yellow eyes glow brightly as she breaks his nose for the second time.   
After a while Theo manages to step behind her. He wraps his arms around Izabel, pinning her arms to her side.   
“Stop! What has gotten into you?!”  
Izabel wriggles in his embrace, kicks at his legs and tries to bite into his arms. Theo tightens his grip and waits.  
When she finally calms down, her body going slack, he speaks up again, “What the hell?”  
The girl in his arms doesn't say a word but he can see her claws disappear and her ears turn back human. Only when he feels her tremble under his touch does Theo let go.   
He places his hands on Izabel's shoulders and turns her around to face him.   
Tears are spilling down her cheeks. She doesn't return his look.   
“When did this happen?”  
“What do you mean? They gave me some weird herbs.”  
“No,” Theo shakes his head slightly. “When did you turn?”  
Irritated, Izabel looks up at him. “Jackson turned me. Why do you think I'm here?”  
“I thought they were testing some stuff on humans too,” Theo shrugs. “You don't smell like a wolf. And you're leg's not healing either. ”  
“I learned how to conceal my scent.”  
He nods at that. Izabel can practically see him trying to process this information.  
“Wait, Jackson turned you? Jackson?”  
Izabel shrugs his hands off and turns her back on Theo.   
“Yeah. I...” she hesitates. “He bit me. I knew too much, I guess.”  
She shrugs. Wipes the tears from her face. Theo can see her shoulders tremble in anger.   
He hits his fist against the wall with a grunt.   
“Son of a bitch!”  
“It's fine.” Izabel takes a step towards him. “It's actually not that bad. Being a werewolf and all...”  
Theo sizes her up and takes her hands into his. Small bloody crescents slowly disappear where Izabel has dug her claws into her palms.  
“No, it's not. They gave you something to heighten your anger. If we trigger it, you'll go full psycho on me again.”  
He tries hard not to flinch. The amount of pain he can feel cursing through her veins is incredible. Maybe the tattoo is wolfsbane after all.   
“I can handle it.”  
Theo ignores her, “Not that I wouldn't deserve that. Because I do, Izabel!”  
“I'll be okay. Is that what you want me to say?!”  
Puzzled, Theo drops her hands.   
“It's called break up because it's broken, Theo! Okay. WE are broken. I am broken,” she says and then shakes her head. “What the hell did they do to me? I'm talking like some crazy ass bitch.”  
“I don't think it's the drugs.”  
“Shut up! I'm done talking about this.”  
Izabel retreats to a corner of the cell and sits down cross-legged. Theo watches her carefully, listens to her heartbeat slow down. Then he goes to sit beside her.  
“I think it's my fault that Jackson is doing this to you,” he says.   
Izabel tenses up.   
“Before we went to France to resurrect the Beast I did some research. And I went to London to meet Jackson. He was reckless, insane. I needed that. I asked for his help against the Dread Doctors. But he never showed. Sold me out instead.”  
Izabel's voice is timid, “You mean he helped them kill everyone?”  
Theo nods.   
“So Derek...all of that. It's Jackson's fault? But why?”  
“I don't know. Honestly, I'm not sure he knows himself. That guy is nuts!”  
“I doubt he's half as crazy as he lets everyone think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry guys, Uni life has been crazy lately but I'm trying to get the next chapter up as soon as possible! Promise!!!!!


	17. Quest -  a long search for something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pack attempts to rescue Izabel. Will they succeed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for not uploading in such a long time!!! I'll make up for it with an especially long chapter this weekend, promise! xx

“Have you seen Izabel lately?”  
Scott indicates for Stiles to put his shirt back on. The agent happily obliges, eager to stall his answer.  
“I know that she's undercover somewhere but I really need to check on her wound again. I have a feeling it's not healing as nicely as yours.”  
“Oh, I have a feeling it's healing super well. Like super super well!”  
Stiles lifts his shirt again to take one last peek at his chest. The claw marks are nicely healed. Four skinny white lines of fresh flesh are the only reminder of what happened two weeks ago.  
Scott watches him with raised eyebrows.  
“And why would you think that?”  
Stiles shrugs.  
His mind is racing. He can't tell Scott. Derek will kill him.  
“I suspect the opposite to be honest with you,” his best friend continues after a second. “I mean, it's only a theory...Izabel has always healed slowly and...”  
“What?”  
Scott shirks from his look. He scratches his neck uncomfortably.  
“It's just an observation.”  
“Scott, come on dude! I'm your best friend.”  
“I can't,” the doctor shakes his head. “It's a violation of confidence!”  
Stiles rolls his eyes, “If you think something's up with Izabel I think I should know. She's on my team. If something happens to her, I'm responsible!”  
He hates not being able to tell Scott the truth. Stiles desperately wants to tell him that something terrible has already happened to Izabel and that he doesn't have a clue how to help her.  
“Okay. But I'm telling you this as a concerned friend, not as a doctor!”  
“Whatever you need, man.”  
“I have treated Izabel for a couple of years now and rarely has she come straight to me after a mission.”  
“So?”  
“Stiles! When you were injured you guys called me immediately. And whenever someone is wounded in active service they report to my office before they do anything else. It's common sense really!”  
“So you're saying...?”  
“I'm saying that against better judgement Izabel doesn't seek medical treatment when she's hurt. And she's always hurt. Derek returns unharmed from every mission. But Izabel never comes back uninjured!”  
“But Derek is...” Stiles struggles for words. “Derek is basically superman. We're just human. I got hurt too!”  
The look on Scott's face is so serious Stiles doesn't think he's ever seen his friend this concerned.  
“Okay, just tell me what you think is wrong with her.”  
“That's the thing, I'm not sure if there is something wrong with her or if she's just very conscientious. But … I'm afraid that she doesn't want me to dress her wounds because she thinks she deserves to feel that kind of pain”  
“What? But that's...”  
“Think about it, Stiles. When you're out on a mission... does Izabel act reckless? Do her decisions seem rash to you? Thoughtless? Does she voluntarily place herself in danger?”  
“I mean...I haven't really been on duty with her. There was this surveillance thing,” he shrugs. “But that just meant sitting in a car all day long. And then she broke into a house while I kept watch.”  
“But that's something normal to do, isn't it?”  
Scott looks desperate now. He's raking his hands through his hair and walks up and down in his small office.  
Stiles nods. “It was her idea to go undercover though. Derek and I weren't so convinced that it was a good idea but Izabel was bent on getting close to our prime suspect.”  
Scott perks up at that.  
“And then there's the weird screaming...”  
“Screaming?”  
“Yeah, I..we were having a movie night and I fell asleep on the couch. And in the middle of the night, she started screaming and crying. It was super weird!”  
Scott sits down next to him and starts to mumble to himself, “Mmh...panic attack, the bruises.”  
He looks at his best friend.  
“Have you ever seen Izabel wear shorts?”  
“No,” Stiles raises an eyebrow in question. “Why is that important?”  
Then his eyes widen, “You think she's self-harming?”  


 

“Maybe you should take that.”  
Derek glances at his phone which is ringing for the third time. He rejects Stiles' call again and focuses on Chris Argent.  
“It can wait.”  
The hunter raises an eyebrow but lets it go.  
“I know that you've already risked a lot by planting Isaac but I'm going to have to ask you another favour.”  
“And what makes you think I'll help you?”  
“You already did once. And besides, I happen to know that no one hates Gerard's practices more than you.”  
Chris crosses his arms, “Gerard abandoned the code a long time ago. Why would I want to stop him now?”  
Derek takes a step towards him, “You claim to protect those who can't protect themselves. But the way I see it, you've failed to do that here! These wolves have done nothing wrong and still they're being tortured,” he sighs. “Look, all I'm asking for is your strategic advice. No one knows Gerard better than you and if we want to be one step ahead of him – we need you!”  
Derek's phone rings again. He stares at Stiles' name on the screen angrily. Why could he never take a hint?!  
“Sorry, I'll just...” Derek gestures at the phone.  
“What is wrong with you? I'm in the middle of something here,” he whisper-shouts into the speaker as he backs a few steps away from Chris.  
“Oh...I'm...where are you?”  
“I'm trying to convince Argent to help us. You calling me every five seconds is not helping!”  
“I'm sorry. I'll stop! We can talk later.”  
Derek sighs, “What is it, Stiles?”  
“No honestly, it's fine. Just – we have to get Izabel out of there. If he doesn't budge use your claws!”  
“I'm not - ,” Derek begins but Stiles has already hung up on him.  
Shaking his head, he pockets the phone and walks back to Chris who is watching him carefully.  
“Alright!” the hunter says. “I'll help you. On one condition!”  
“Name your price,” Derek says.  
“You'll leave Gerard to me. We go in, you rescue your friend and get out.”  
Derek crosses his arms, “This is an official investigation. That man has committed crime over crime and kidnapping is the least evil. We have to arrest him!”  
Chris doesn't show any emotion.  
“If you want your friend back, we'll do it my way.”  
The two men stare at each other in silence.  
Finally Derek uncrosses his arms and nods slightly, “We'll do it your way but if the agency decides that it's time to bust Gerard's ass I won't disobey a direct order.”  
“Fair enough.”  
They shake hands. 

 

“What did he say?” Stiles blurts out.  
“What are you doing here?” Derek looks at him sternly and drops his keys on the coffee table.  
“I could ask you the same question!”  
“This is my apartment!”  
“I could ask you a different question,” Stiles responds sheepishly.  
Liam walks out of the bathroom, “Is he in?”  
“What is he doing here?”  
Stiles shrugs, “He's practically homeless. I just figured...”  
“Of course,” Derek rolls his eyes. Addressing Liam he adds, “He's in.”  
“So when are we kicking those hunters' asses?” His beta looks at him expectantly as he sits down on the couch next to Stiles.  
“Soon. There is something I have to do first,” Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. “Which is why you'll meet Isaac today. Be careful and make sure no one follows you!”  
Liam beams as he jumps out of his seat eagerly, “I won't disappoint you!”  
Quick as lightning he's out of the door.  
Derek plops down next to Stiles.  
“What do you have to do?”  
“Nothing,” Derek smirks at him. “I just needed to get rid of him.”  
Stiles smirks back at his boyfriend, “Smooth. What did Argent say?”  
“He agreed to help us if we leave Gerard to him.”  
“And you agreed to that?!”  
Stiles looks at him incredulously.  
“I had to.”  
“But...the case! We have to bust their asses. And better sooner than later or Mr. Alexander is going to quarter us.”  
“We have to get Izzy out of there and if Argent wants my right leg in return, I'll gladly give it to him. We can worry about Mr. A later.”  
Stiles examines him intently.  
“Okay, so what's the plan?”  
“We get to the roof and eliminate the guards. The stairs lead past an old elevator shaft that's been bricked up. We go down it and enter the cellar in secret. We'll just have to wait until Isaac finds out where they're holding Izabel.”  
“The elevator shaft on the entresol? Well, that's going to be a tight fit.” Stiles looks at him in doubt, “And how do we get back out?”  
“The same way we got in.”  
“Okay...” Stiles seems to think about it for a moment, then he gets up and starts pacing. “But we need some kind of drill. I'm thinking a diamond bit...”  
“Forget the drill,” Derek interjects.  
Stiles swings around, “Sorry?”  
“I've got it covered,” the Alpha walks to stand in front of him.  
“You've got it..?! What do you think you're gonna do, Derek? Punch through the wall?!”  
“Yes Stiles!” Derek crosses his arms. “I'm gonna punch through the wall!”  
“Okay big guy, let's see it! Let's see that fist. Big old fist.”  
Derek rolls his eyes.  
Stiles is working himself up, “Come on! Get it out there, don't be scared!”  
Slowly Derek raises his left fist. His boyfriend holds his hand up flat in front of it.  
“Okay, see this!” Stiles gestures between his hand and Derek's fist, “This is maybe three inches of room to gather enough strength to force a punch through solid...”  
With another annoyed look, Derek strikes a blow.  
Stiles doubles over, clutching his hand to his chest.  
“AH AH!” He staggers the few feet to the couch and lets himself fall onto it, still holding his arm pressed to himself. “Okay, you can do it!”

~

“I'm only talking to you because I can't tell left from right at the moment.”  
“So far I'm the only one talking, love.”  
Izabel rolls her eyes.  
“How long was I out?”  
Theo shrugs, “An hour maybe.”  
He eyes her carefully, “What did they do this time?”  
“I'm not sure,” Izabel sits up with a groan. “Something worse.”  
“This is fucked up, so fucked up! They're all insane. Completely mad.”  
“What are you so put out about?! It's not like this is your first time...” she leaves the sentence unfinished.  
Theo raises an eyebrow. 'Really? This is how it's gonna be?', his face says.  
“Why aren't you healing?” he changes the subject, his cheerful tone forced.  
Izabel looks at him unblinkingly for a second. Then she shrugs, “Maybe they gave me something.”  
“Or you're not letting yourself heal,” Theo deadpans.  
Another eye roll, “And why would I do that?!”  
The werewolf looks at her silently, his eyes soft and sad.  
Izabel avoids his gaze. She starts tugging down the hem of her shirt. His shirt.  
“I'm not talking to you about this any more,” she mumbles after a while and leans back against the wall, hugging her knees close to her chest. “I don't owe you an explanation.”  
Theo leans against the metal bars of the cell, his arms crossed in front of his chest and watches her. “Tell me something then,” Theo smirks. “How's that big broody friend of yours?”  
“Gay,” a small smile crosses Izabel's face. “So gay.”

~

“This is stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Stiles mutters under his breath.  
Derek rolls his eyes and grabs Liam's biceps.  
“Not yet,” he growls and pulls his beta back into hiding.  
“What are we waiting for?”  
“The end of their shift,” Stiles nods towards the guards on the roof of Gerard's factory.  
The three of them are crouching down behind some bushes, just a stone's throw behind the fence surrounding the property.  
“They'll be impatient to go inside and get sloppy.”  
“They will still see us coming,” Liam objects.  
“We're waiting for Argent's signal,” Derek says in a tone that suggests they'd better shut up now.  
“Who we can't really communicate with,” Stiles mumbles.  
Derek looks at him with weary eyes.  
“Are we still milking that?”  
“Yes, we are still milking that.”  
“It has to be unofficial! Chris gets Gerard, we get Izabel.”  
“I get why we're doing this, I just don't understand why we're doing it like this! What do we have all this crazy equipment for if we don't use it?!”  
“Stiles,” Derek sighs.  
“Lydia would have totally been able to permanently delete any recordings afterwards. No one would have noticed!”  
“And you really want to give our high tech equipment to Jackson?”  
“I...Jack-...NO!” Stiles throws his hands in the air exasperatedly. “I'm just saying we would've found another way. This deal stinks! Not that I don't trust Argent.”  
He huffs. “I just don't trust him. HE'S AN ARGENT!”  
Liam shakes his head at them and continues to peer through the leaves. Stiles and Derek have been arguing about this ever since Isaac had found out where the hunters were keeping Izabel. Derek wants to act now and go ahead with the plan. He wants to get Izabel out of there as soon as possible. Even if it means having Jackson as their only backup.  
Stiles doesn't have a problem with the plan per se. He just doesn't trust Jackson. Or Chris Argent. He wants to get the agency involved, follow protocol and do this right. But then again, he also wants to get Izabel out of that crappy cell. And Derek can be very persuasive. Which doesn't mean that Stiles necessarily agrees with what they're about to do.  
Obviously.  
“He says he knows Gerard the best but Gerard also knows him pretty well. Who's to say the bastard doesn't escape again if we leave them to themselves?!”  
Derek rests a hand on Stiles' arm, “I know. But this plan is the best one we have right now and I won't leave Izabel in there any longer.”  
Stiles nods grimly. “Just don't forget I warned you when this blows up in our faces!”  
“Guys, I think that might be the signal!” Liam points into the distance where red smoke crawls around a corner.  
“Let's go!” Derek orders.  
Everything goes according to plan. Until they're standing in front of the walled elevator shaft. Well, Derek is standing there. Stiles and Liam are fighting off the guards who had already been in the middle of their shift change, when the trio had arrived on the roof.  
So yes, their plan may have failed at the first step...  
The Alpha can hear the fighting continue outside. He had climbed down the narrow ladder from the roof and stopped on a small platform about halfway down the destroyed staircase. Putting all his strength into this one punch, Derek slams his fist against the wall. He has to repeat this twice to create a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. On the other side of the wall pieces of cement tumble down the elevator shaft. Derek prays to the gods above that no one heard any of that.  
“Guys, we gotta move,” he shouts.  
Stiles appears at the trap door, hair messy and slightly damp with sweat. He's holding his gun steadily pointed at someone in front of him as he shouts over his shoulder.  
“Just a sec.”  
Derek eyes his boyfriend's back carefully before descending into the elevator shaft. Along the wall a rusty ladder leads all the way down to the basement. It whines and creaks under Derek's weight but the rungs don't break. He holds his breath and hurries down.  
Only seconds after Derek has reached solid ground again, he can hear Liam and Stiles clamber through the hole above him. Liam starts climbing down at breakneck speed, Stiles follows him a little more hesitantly.  
Halfway down the shaft a rung breaks under Liam's weight. He slips and falls. About two metres into his fall the wolf manages to grab onto the ladder again. Stiles has stopped his descend and is shouting at the young beta.  
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU CRAZY??”  
“I didn't do it on purpose..” Liam huffs.  
“I'm not taking another step down this death trap. I'm too beautiful to die like this.”  
Derek rolls his eyes, “Liam, you're nearly there. It's just one storey, you can jump.”  
“JUMP?! HE'S GONNA BREAK HIS NECK!”  
Liam doesn't pay Stiles any attention. He glances down at Derek, who has stepped aside and is leaning against the wall now. His beta takes a deep breath and takes the leap. Landing more or less gracefully, he beams at Derek, “That was awesome!”  
“Uhm guys...?”  
Stiles has climbed down a couple more rungs but Liam's jump has torn the lower part of the ladder of it's hinges.  
“Just jump,” Liam suggests.  
“JUMP??? ARE YOU INSANE? I AM STILL HUMAN, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!”  
“Just jump already. I'll catch you,” Derek shouts up at him. He's incredibly aware of all the noise they're making but he just knows that ordering Stiles to quiet down would result in the exact opposite.  
“I refuse to die like this just because everyone else is turning into batman all of a sudden. Why do I always have to be Robin? Gosh, I hate being Robin all the time...”  
“Stiles, we can still hear you.”  
“YEAH WELL, I DON'T CARE!”  
“Just jump, I'll catch you!” Derek repeats patiently, a small smile playing around his lips. This could almost be comically, if it wasn't such a serious situation.  
“I WILL NOT JUMP DOWN THIS SHAFT!”  
“Stiles, JUMP!” Derek tries to sound as stern as possible, “We don't have time for your tantrums.”  
“TAN-?! Pffft...” Stiles huffs. “Don't you dare drop me, Hale!”  
Derek can hear him draw in a sharp breath. Then he lets go of the ladder and falls with a yelp that sounds a lot like something coming out of a five-year-old.  
Derek catches his boyfriend bridal style.  
“That wasn't so bad, was it now?”  
“This is so degrading,” Stiles mumbles into Derek's neck.  
The Alpha sets him down with a smile. 

~

 

“Can I murder you now?” Izabel groans.  
Theo is sitting opposite her, a shit-eating grin on his face.  
“Come on, you have to admit that being trapped down here would be a lot worse without me.”  
“Do you want me to thank your face with my fist?”  
“Don't be cocky. It's unbecoming on you.”  
“You know what?! If you don't stop talking now, someone might think you're a dick,” Izabel slightly cocks her head, “Oh wait, someone already does.”  
Theo holds her gaze, a smirk forming on his lips.  
“Are you flirting with me, Reyes?!” he asks, raising an eyebrow questioningly.  
Before Izabel can come up with a witty remark, a loud bang from the corridor catches their attention. The sounds are still muffled by several walls but their werewolf hearing registers the fighting effortlessly.  
A door opens and slams shut and heavy steps advance down the corridor.  
“How many?” Izabel mouths at Theo as both of them jump to their feet and back away from the bars.  
Theo shakes his head in contemplation, then holds up three fingers. He tries to push Izabel behind him but she shoots him an angry look and shoves his shoulder, shaking her head.  
Then she suddenly perks up. Hesitantly she approaches the bars again.  
“Derek?”  
Her voice is barely a whisper. She sounds small and far too vulnerable. Theo's heart clenches at the tinge of suppressed hope in her call.  
“Izabel!”  
Derek, Stiles and Liam appear in front of their cell. A sigh of relief leaves Derek's lips.  
“About damn time, we've been looking for you all over! This level is fucking huge,” Stiles says and tucks his gun into his waistband. Derek looks Izabel over carefully. Then his gaze shifts to Theo.  
“What the hell is he doing here?”  
Izabel is gripping the bars of the cell with both hands, her knuckles white.  
“Just get me out of here?!”  
“Liam!” Derek barks, eyes never leaving Theo.  
Liam shuffles forward and uses a slightly bloodied key card to open the cell.  
“It's good to see you, Liam,” Izabel smiles at him and steps past the beta into the hallway.  
She stops in front of Derek and gazes at him through half-lidded eyes.  
“I'm sorry,” she says sheepishly.  
Derek shakes his head and pulls her into a tight hug. Then he rests his hands on her shoulders and holds her at arm's length.  
“Are you okay?”  
Izabel nods, not trusting her own voice.  
Derek's gaze drops to the wound on her leg, then back up to meet hers. He slowly nods.  
“Alright, let's go then!”  
“What about him?” Stiles nods at Theo who's still standing in the open door of the cell.  
“He's with me.”  
“Izzy!” Derek sounds wary but there's also a warning in his voice.  
“I said he's with me.”


	18. Remorse - the feeling of being extremely sorry for something wrong or bad that you have done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Izabel recalls the events of her first case with Derek - and Stiles is confused.

“Stiles?”

He jumps in his seat, where he is slumped down and apparently fell asleep. Izabel retracts her hand from his shoulder. She sits down next to him on the couch and hugs her knees to her chest.

“So uhm...this is weird but...what happened?”

Stiles rubs the sleep out of his eyes and sits up straight, “The escape didn't go as smoothly as planned. You were shot and Derek had to carry you back here. You've been asleep all of yesterday!”

“Where is Derek?”

Stiles eyes the girl carefully, taking in her small frame and drooping shoulders. She looks exhausted, almost defeated – maybe even a little scared.

“He went back to check on Isaac and Liam.”  
Izabel raises an eyebrow.

“They're watching Theo.”

She sighs and lets her head drop onto her knees. “This is all my fault! I shouldn't have...it's always...,” she mumbles.

Stiles scoots closer to her and slings an arm around her shoulders, “This isn't anybody's fault! Gerard is an evil bastard!”

Izabel shakes her head and leans into him.

“No, you don’t understand. This is all happening because of me! If I hadn’t insisted to be put on Kyle’s case...”  
“How is this about your brother?”  
She sighs and runs her hands through her hair. Stiles bites down on his lip and swallows the questions he’s dying to ask. He is so close to uncovering all the missing details of the mysterious London case, he can feel it! Between shooting Jackson, finding Liam and rescuing Izabel he had nearly forgotten about his fight with Derek. Or what had caused it.  
Izabel gets up and walks around her apartment aimlessly.  
“You watered my plants!“ she exclaims after a while.  
„Yeah,“ Stiles shrugs. „Derek told me you‘d kill me if I let them die.“  
A smile flickers over Izabel‘s face but it‘s gone as quickly as it appeared.  
Shaking her head slightly, she walks into the kitchen. Stiles follows her, still bursting with questions. He stops in the doorway and starts to bounce on the balls of his feet. He watches his teammate with anticipation.  
„You found my notes,“ Izabel turns to face him, the open coffee tin in her hands. They exchange a look, then she shrugs and turns back to the task at hand.  
When she pours water into the coffee maker and sets down two cups on the table, Stiles decides he can‘t wait any longer.  
„So....“ he starts carefully. „Your brother...?“  
The unfinished question hangs in the air between them, looming large like a third person. Izabel plops down on a chair and sighs. Not making eye contact, she pulls one knee to her chest and hugs it close. Stiles can feel himself leaning forward in excitement.  
„How do you even know about Kyle?“  
Stiles lets out a frustrated snort, „Lydia gave me this file...“ he waves a hand dismissively. „Still had a lot of blacked out stuff in it.“  
Izabel nods. This information doesn’t seem to surprise her. Stiles bites his lip again, wills himself to stand perfectly still and stares at her. Maybe if he concentrates enough he can mentally force the story out of her.  
„We were both difficult children. Angry children. For all the ways I found to live my anger out quietly, Kyle found two different ways to proclaim his to the world. He always got into fights. And we got used to it! My parents - they tried. But just like their marriage, their relationship to their children was built on quicksand. By the time I was old enough and started to pretty much single-handedly take care of the both of us...it was too late. Kyle was...“  
Multiple emotions cross over her face, too quickly for Stiles to distinguish them.  
„Kyle wasn‘t getting into fights any more. He was part of stabbings, he sold drugs and consumed them. We were still close though! We had each other‘s backs but when it came to his „work“, she flinches, „he never listened to me!“  
The coffee machine beeps and Stiles moves to pour them both a cup. Izabel looks at him fleetingly, her eyes grazing over him but not really seeing her teammate. She curls her hands around the mug and stares into the brown liquid when Stiles sits down opposite her.  
„When I was fifteen he stopped coming home for the night. And my father started drinking again/ my father‘s drinking got worse. Sometimes Kyle would be gone for days and every time he did come home my father‘s reaction grew more violent. One day, Kyle decided to not come back home. Ever again.“  
The hurt on Izabel‘s face is so intense that Stiles has to look away.  
„Kyle and I met up sometimes, always in secret, scared my parents would find out. When I was seventeen I ran away too. I found a job at the agency and slowly made my way from hacker to agent. With these newfound resources I managed to track Kyle. I kept an eye on him.“  
Stiles nods along to the story, impatient to learn more about how Derek and Theo fit into this mess.  
Izabel takes a sip of her coffee and traces the rim of the cup with her index finger.  
„A couple of years ago, strange deaths occurred all over town. If you‘ve read the file you already know what the police report says. The gang that was suspected to be involved, was the one Kyle joined. So I volunteered to go undercover. I told Mr. Alexander that I knew some of the Gringos and would easily fit in.“  
„Wow, wow, wow, hold on! You’re brother was a Gringo?!”  
She nods, “It took some convincing but in the end I was allowed to take on the case. Once I had passed initiation, I found out that the Gringos were no longer just one big gang but rather a coalition of several smaller gangs.”  
  
_~  
“And what do you think you’re doing here?”  
Izabel swivels around at the sound of a low voice next to her ear. The guy is standing uncomfortably close. One arm resting against the wall next to her, he’s leaning slightly forward. Anyone walking by would think them to be in a casual conversation between friends. And even Izabel could have been fooled by the open, friendly look on his face had it not been for the threat lingering in his tone.  
The young agent resists the urge to take a step back. With a steady gaze she returns his look. He’s about her age, brown hair sticking out from underneath his beanie. He’s wearing a dark hoodie, jeans and black trainers.  
“I could ask you the same.”  
The boy chuckles and crosses his arms, casually leaning against the wall.  
“I think I’m the one who should ask the questions here. Since this is my territory and all.”  
“Your Territory?” Izabel raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think Gabe wouldn't approve of a young hipster claiming what’s his.”  
He chuckles again and pushes himself of the wall. He steps close to her, leans down slightly and whisper into her ear: “Gabe isn’t the king of everything, princess!”  
Then he steps past her, their shoulders brushing against each other and strolls down the hallway. He opens the door Izabel had been observing before and enters the room with a confident certainty . Izabel furrows her brows and strains her ears to hear what is going on in there.  
As if to give her permission to eavesdrop, the mysterious boy leaves the door cracked wide open behind himself.  
“Sorry, I’m late boys,” she can hear him say.  
“Theo!” Gabe sounds wary.  
“Close the goddamn door and get your ass over here so we can finally start,” another voice groans._  
  
~  
“So Theo was already trying to take over the Gringos back then?”   
Stiles rolls his eyes. It doesn’t surprise him to hear this.  
But Izabel shakes her head, “No, he... at first I thought that was his plan. But he was already the leader of his own gang. And Gabe respected him. Paul and Theo were the only one‘s he would listen to.“  
„Paul? Why does that name sound familiar?“  
„He defected to the Vipers. Way before Jackson came to town. Paul used to be Gabe‘s right hand man. He had nearly as many men gathered around him as Gabe. Theo on the other hand, only had a handful of „followers“... Kyle was one of them.“  
„Was he...?“ Stiles doesn’t have to finish the question.  
Izabel’s expression drops even further and her eyes darken. She nods.  
“He was a chimera but it took me a long time to figure that out.”  
  
~  
_“You’re not very subtle about this!”  
Izabel closes the door behind herself and leans against it, her arms crossed.  
Derek copies her stance and meets her eyes unwaveringly.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“You can tell Mr. A that I have this under control. I don’t need a babysitter!”  
Derek raises an eyebrow.  
“Or a bodyguard.”  
His eyebrow moves even further up.  
“Are You done?”  
Now it’s Izabel’s turn to raise an eyebrow.  
“I didn’t know there was someone else on this case.”  
Izabel looks him over, “As this someone I suggest you snoop around when no one is watching.”  
“I’m not snooping,” Derek sounds more defensive than he wants.  
“Of course you are! I’d be disappointed if you weren’t but maybe try another tactic the next time...I overheard Paul telling Gabe the tall new guy is asking too many questions.”  
Derek uncrosses his arms, sighs, crosses them again.  
“You snoop more than me,” he mutters under his breath.  
“But I’m cuter than you. And I know how to flirt my way out of a situation,” Izabel smirks. “Somehow I doubt you’d have much luck with that.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You’re not exactly the friendly neighbourhood type, Derek.”  
“At least I’m not sleeping with the gang leaders!”  
Izabel’s expression darkens but she blushes nonetheless. They hold each other’s stare for a minute, then she shakes her head. Sighing she buries her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.  
“I’m not sleeping with any of them! I’m just being friendly - not that you’d know much about that.”  
“Whatever,” Derek scoffs._  
  
~  
_“Are you following me now, Princess?”  
Izabel scoffs. Theo seems to appear everywhere these days. Izabel had suspected Gabe had sicced him on her. But when she had confronted her leader, he had laughed.  
“Why would I do that?! No, sweetheart. I think Theo has simply taken a liking to you.”  
Gabe had laughed at her horrified face.  
And here he is again, invading her personal space and driving Izabel up the wall.   
“I’m starting to think YOU’RE following ME! Maybe I should get a restraining order,” she muses. She is surprised at how calm and collected she sounds when her heart is beating faster by the second and her mouth feels increasingly dry. She forces herself to hold his gaze. There is no way she’s going to give Theo the satisfaction of revealing his effect on her.   
Because the thing is, Izabel is Not unaware of Theo’s soft eyes, his perfect hair and strong arms. In fact, the more he talks to her the harder it is for her to ignore just how handsome he really is.   
“You wouldn’t dare,” He now purrs, leaning forward and lowering his voice slightly. “And we both know you don’t really want to anyways.”   
“Whatever,” Izabel rolls her eyes.   
The whole ordeal feels way too intimate for her liking. Somehow she is standing with her back to the wall, Theo just inches away, slightly leaning over her.   
“So, you and Hale. What’s that all about?“  
Izabel lets her head fall back against the wall to meet his eyes.  
“Us newbies have to stick together.”  
“That’s it?” Theo raises an eyebrow.   
A mischievous grin spreads across Izabel’s face. She rests a hand on his chest.   
„Wouldn’t you like to know?!“  
Theo curls a strand of her hair around his finger, his eyes darken a little and his voice suddenly becomes very low. „Don’t try me, princess.“  
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Izabel winks at him, slips out from where his arms had caged her and starts down the corridor. Turning back to Theo, she takes a few steps backwards.   
“And just fyi Derek is gay!”   
  
~  
“Okay, hold on!” Izabel holds up one hand and waves it around in front of Derek’s face.   
He lifts an eyebrow in question.  
“You’re a what now?!”  
He sighs, “You heard me.” Rolling his eyes, he adds, “You just want me to show you again.”  
Izabel places her hands on her hip, a smirk on her lips.   
Derek rolls his eyes again. Then his features change, his eyes glow blue. Izabel squeezes her own eyes shut and examines him closely. When he’s turned back human, she nods slowly.  
“Okay, so run me through this again! Theo is a wolf too...”  
“So is his part of the gang.”  
“And Gabe is an Alpha?”  
Derek nods.  
“I’m the only human here,” she states.   
“Looks like it.”  
“But? So... Kyle...?” A flash of doubt passes over her face.  
Derek nods again, “Your brother hasn’t been a wolf for long though. He is still having trouble controlling his shift.”  
Izabel looks at Derek for a while, contemplating this.  
“You have to teach me what to look for!”  
Derek is about to shake his head when she grabs his hands.   
“Der, I need to be prepared. You’re the only one I can trust around here. We have to be honest with each other if we want to get out of this mess someday.”  
Derek shudders at her touch. He still hasn’t gotten used to the nickname she has given him. Only his mom used to call him Der...  
The look on Izabel’s face is both determined and pleading. Derek closes his eyes in defeat.   
“Okay.”  
Izabel throws her arms around his neck.   
“Together we will get to the bottom of this, trust me!”  
“Tell me this though: why do people think I’m gay all of a sudden?”   
“Why would I know?”  
“I can tell you’re lying.”  
“Well, technically I only asked you a question. So it wasn’t a lie!”  
Derek rolls his eyes, “You are unbelievable.”  
“It’s one of my hidden talents.”  
“So?”  
“Ugh...fine,” Izabel takes a step backwards, bringing a little more space between them. “I may have told Theo that you’re gay.”  
“You What?”  
“It’s just the truth!”  
Derek is staring at her blankly, “And why am I just hearing of this now?”  
“Oh, come on! I see the way you check out Gabe all the time! And I don’t blame you, he’s a good looking man...”  
Derek groans.   
_  
~  
“Derek told you?”  
“Yeah, I guess he figured I should know that I was consorting with werewolves,” Izabel shrugs like it’s no big deal.  
“He told me werewolves never reveal themselves to humans.”  
Stiles' arms flail about wildly.  
“I would have found out anyway.”  
“You...”  
“It helped our investigation!”  
“Your...”  
“And if you ask me, Derek was scared that Gabe would want to turn me. He wanted me to know the truth so that I had a choice. He wanted to show me what I was dealing with so I could run away.”  
“But you didn’t.”  
Izabel shakes her head.   
“Would you?”  
“No!”   
  
~  
_“I’m starting to think you actually like me, princess.”  
Theo plants a kiss on her exposed shoulder, smirking up at Izabel.  
“Don’t get your hopes up, Raeken.”  
Izabel pulls the sheets to her chin. Theo leans on his elbow, hovering over her. His hair is a mess and he’s smiling down at Izabel. She can feel her heart skip several beats. She doesn’t want to think about this now. Quickly she reaches up to bury her fingers in the short hairs in the nape of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.  
When they part, Theo is still wearing his trademark shit-eating grin.  
“Are you sure you don’t have a thing for me? This is the third time this week...my bed is starting to smell like you.”  
Now it’s Izabel’s turn to smirk at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”  
His smirk breaks into a full blown smile and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, pecking her lips again before lying down. Izabel turns towards him, burying her face in his neck and slinging her arms around his torso.  
“You’re so warm,” she mumbles against his skin and nestles even closer against him. She can feel his chuckle vibrating in Theo’s chest.  
“I feel very used right now.”  
Izabel lightly grazes her lips across his neck. “Stop complaining, I want to sleep!”  
They lie in silence for a while. Izabel keeps fidgeting and after a minute she scoots away from him, the blanket tugged to her chin.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Izzy!”  
“I just have a lot on my mind right now.”  
She pushes the blanket down to her hip and turns to lie on her side, facing away from him. Theo slips a hand under the T-shirt she’s wearing and pulls her close again, his thumb drawing circles on her hip.  
“Like What?” He asks.  
“Do Fish feel wet all the time? Ketchup is basically a tomato smoothie. And -“  
“Gosh, you’re so annoying,” Theo groans.  
“Tell that to my brain.”  
“If you can’t sleep...” Theo sits up against the headboard. “We could have sex again.”  
“Shut up and cuddle me, Raeken!”  
  
~  
“Kyle finally caved!”  
Derek looks up from his bike. He scans their surroundings but no other gang members are around.  
“We need to get into this lab,” Izabel goes on. “These doctor dudes, they’re real! I told you! And,” she lowers her voice conspiratorially. “They’re not just werewolves.”  
Derek sets down his tools and wipes his hands on his jeans. “What?”  
“Theo’s pack! There something else. Some mixture between different creatures. That’s not normal, right?!”  
“No!”  
“And they have this laboratory with all those weird machines. I only caught a glimpse of it...we need to get back there and find out what they are! And what these doctors want!”  
“Did they see you?”  
“I don’t think so.”  
Derek crosses his arm, “I’ll go! Just to be safe. We have to be smart about this!”  
Izabel nods.  
“We need to find a way to lure them all away from that lab,” Derek muses.  
“You could go tonight,” she says.  
Derek raises an eyebrow.  
“I don’t know about the doctors but the others should be gone. Theo sent four people to scout the Viper territory tonight. Tracey has a date and the rest of the boys usually play poker on Tuesdays.”  
“What about Theo?”  
Izabel blushes, “He won’t be a problem.”  
“Izzy? What did you do?”  
“Nothing!” she shouts defensively. “He’s going to a concert with me,” she adds sheepishly.  
Derek relaxes a little but he’s still frowning.  
“You’re getting way too attached!”  
“Geez, thanks Derek!”  
_  
~   
“You discovered the Dread Doctors?”  
Stiles is perched on the edge of his seat now.  
“Yeah,” Izabel shrugs. “I mean...Kyle kind of told me about them. But I still went and found the lab. Just to double-check you know.“  
„Did he tell you about the chimeras too?“  
„No. He told me that he was a were-coyote...like Theo. He didn’t know how it had happened exactly and what role the doctors played in all of it. The chimera usually never came into contact with them after being created. Only if the doctors came to kill them.“  
Stiles can feel the goosebumps spread on his arms. This story sounds like something straight out of a horror movie. A bad one, but still...  
„After Derek had visited the lab we were certain that the doctors were experimenting with the supernatural and had created all the chimeras. But we didn’t know what their ultimate goal was yet.“  
„The beast.“  
Izabel nods.  
„So how did you find out?“  
„Theo told me.”  
“He told you?! Just like that? I thought he’s the bad guy in this -“ he waves his hand around dismissively. “This disaster.”  
Izabel looks at him for the first time since she had started telling the story.  
“It’s not that easy. The dread doctors were bad but Theo...” she sighs heavily. “There’s never only black and white. Even we, especially we, operate in that grey area in between all the time. And Theo’s grey was one of the darker shades.”  
“That makes absolutely no sense.”  
“No I guess it doesn’t, does it?”  
  
~  
_“How much longer do we have to stand out here?” Theo grumbles.  
“The line’s already moving. Stop whining!”  
“Yeah, it’s moving at a snail’s pace.”  
“Oh shut up, at least you’re not cold!”  
Theo looks at Izabel who is wrapping her arms around herself and bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.   
“It’s not that cold.”  
Izabel rolls her eyes. “Says you, Mr. Wolf!”  
“I still can’t believe Kyle told you.”  
“I can be pretty persuasive.”  
“Yeah, tell me about it...” Theo aims for an annoyed tone but the smile that tugs on his lips gives him away.   
“You’re not going to kick him out, are you?” Izabel looks at him cautiously.  
“No.”  
“Will you punish him?”  
Theo sighs, “Yes. But don’t worry, he’ll live through it.”  
The girl huffs but drops the subject. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and pulls her phone out. They move a couple of steps forward. At last Theo can make out the entrance.  
Izabel types with trembling fingers and he watches her with an amused look. She’s wearing a T-shirt and a cardigan under her leather jacket. How the hell can she be cold?   
“You’re shivering.”  
“You don’t say?!”  
Izabel doesn’t look up from her phone and continues to furiously type.   
Theo chuckles and steps to stand behind her. He slips his arms around her hips and pulls her close.  
“What are you doing?” Izabel yelps.  
“Saving you from a death from exposure.”  
“Nerd.”  
“What?”  
“You heard me!”  
Theo chuckles and rests his cheek against the top of her head.  
“Who are you texting?”  
“I’m telling Kyle he should clean your car if he wants to live to 21.”  
“Really?“  
„Yeah,“ she tugs her phone back into her jacket. „He‘s not convinced.“  
Izabel turns around to face him and snakes her arms under his jacket and around his back.   
They haven’t made a lot of progress, Theo can hear loud voices argue at the front of the line. He rolls his eyes.  
„What?“  
„One of them isn’t old enough to get in. They’re arguing with the doorman.”  
“Mmh.”  
Izabel watches him intently as Theo uses his werewolf hearing to listen in on the argument, a look of concentration on his face. She takes in his every feature. Maybe Derek was right. She has grown attached. Her heart has decided to trust this mysterious boy and who is she to object.   
She gets why Derek has reservations. She’s not stupid. Izabel is very aware of the secrets Theo is keeping but maybe that is the exact reason why she likes being around him so much. They both have their own secrets. Theo has never asked her about her family, he has never forced her to reveal more than she is willing to give.   
She smiles to herself.   
“What’s so funny, princess?” Theo leans down, his hot breath grazing her cheek.  
“Nothing, you’re just being cute.”  
“Cute?”   
Izabel laughs at his offended tone. She leans closer as well, placing a hand on Theo’s chest.  
“Don’t deny it. You’re soft! In fact, I’d say you’re heart is liquefied right now.”  
She stands up on her tip toes and kisses him. Theo rests a hand against the small of her back.   
“I am denying it. Ferociously!”   
He kisses her, soft and lingering.   
Then the line moves again. Five minutes later they are inside the venue.  
“I can’t believe I agreed to this!”  
Theo groans as Izabel drags him to the merch stand. “We’ve waited in that line for AN HOUR!!”  
“Stop being such a baby! An hour is nothing.”  
“You’ve waited longer than an hour at a concert?!” He looks at her incredulously.   
Izabel nods enthusiastically, “Eight hours - And it was worth it!”  
“I highly doubt that!”  
“It’s called passion, Theo!”  
_  
~  
Izabel takes a sip of her coffee and pulls a face. She gets up and pours it down the drain, replacing it with hot coffee.  
“Stiles?” She lifts the pot in his direction.  
He shakes his head. This story has him riled up already, caffeine is not a good idea right now.   
As his teammate sits down, he asks, “So you and Theo were like - a couple?”  
He notices the hesitation when Izabel says, “Yes.” She presses her knuckles against her temple. “And no.”  
“So no?” Stiles pinches his brows in confusion.   
Izabel let’s out a dry laugh, “At first I thought it was just a fling. But then it actually felt like we were becoming friends. So naturally I just assumed that we were friends with benefits. Theo always seemed so aloof and sure of himself. I never thought that he would even consider us exclusive.”  
“So no,” Stiles repeats.   
Izabel shakes her head.  
“Theo began opening up to me. He even told me about the Dread Doctors. Everything Derek and I already knew and more. I think I -“ she hesitates again, continuing more timid - almost ashamed, “I fell for him. Derek warned me not to loose sight of the mission, not to let my feelings cloud my judgement.”  
“That sounds like Derek,” Stiles remarks bitterly.  
Izabel looks at him with furrowed brows.   
“Derek has gone through some intense shit, Stiles. I’d be concerned if he didn’t act this way. I always told him to get over it, move on and not dwell on those feelings.”  
She shrugs, “But you know Derek. Baby steps are all you’re gonna get from him.”   
“People suck.”  
Stiles says it with such exasperation that Izabel can’t help but laugh. She grabs his hand and squeezes it once.   
“You just have to keep talking to him. Annoying Derek is still the best way to get him to listen to you!”   
“Mmh...But why did you go to London? I still don’t get that part...”   
“Theo had this plan - he wanted to be a proper Alpha and the Dread Doctors used that to make him their puppet. But they never gave him what he wanted and when they took me...”  
“They TOOK YOU? What - What is that supposed to mean?!”  
  
~  
_Izabel slips into her trainers and opens the door._ _  
__“_ _Woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going?” Theo grabs her wrist and turns her back around to face him._ _  
__“_ _I’m meeting Kyle, Theo. I can’t...” she protests but Theo has already pulled her into a kiss._ _  
__“_ _He can wait,” he mumbles into her neck as he pesters it with soft kisses._ _  
__Izabel smiles but shoves him off her._ _  
__“_ _I really have to go.”_ _  
__At that moment a pained roar echoes through the halls._ _  
__“_ _Shit.” Theo steps into the hallway and turns his head from side to side, listening._ _  
__“_ _What was that?”_ _  
__“_ _You’re Brother.”_ _  
__“_ _What?”_ _  
__He grabs her hand without further explanation and starts to jog down the hall. After three turns he slows down and carefully peeks around a corner._ _  
__“_ _What’s going on, Theo?”_ _  
__Izabel has slipped away from his grasp and attempts to sneak a look into the next hall too._ _  
__Theo pulls her back and puts a finger to her lips. Leaning forward, he whispers into her ear, “Kyle is a failure, his body is rejecting the injections. The doctors will come to kill him soon!”_ _  
__“_ _What the fuck?! This isn’t funny, Theo!”_ _  
__She pushes him away from her forcefully and steps past him down the hallway._ _  
__“_ _Kyle!”_ _  
__Her brother is sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall. His face is smeared with some silver goo. Izabel hurries to him and crouches down, holding her brother’s face in her hands._ _  
__“_ _What happened? Kyle, talk to me!”_ _  
__But Kyle looks over her shoulder, “You have to help me!” He pleads with Theo who has appeared behind Izabel._ _  
__“_ _I can’t!” Theo’s voice sounds harsh and cold._ _  
__Izabel steps up to him, “There has to be something we can do! Theo, you know them! There has to be a way!”_ _  
__Hurt passes over her face as he takes a step back._ _  
__“_ _He’s already bleeding mercury. They will find him no matter what!”_ _  
__“_ _Then kill me before they do it!” Kyle coughs behind them._ _  
__Izabel swivels around. Before she can say anything, her brother takes her hand._ _  
__“_ _I don’t want to be killed by these monsters and Theo can do it so it’s quick. If I have to die, at least I want to decide how I go down!”_ _  
__Tears are starting to fall down Izabel’s cheeks. She shakes her head._ _  
__“_ _No, no - you can’t!”_ _  
__Kyle pulls her into a hug, “It’s okay.”_ _  
__Looking at Theo over his sister’s shoulder, he pleads, “Theo?!”_ _  
__But the chimera shakes his head._ _  
__Kyle sighs, squeezes Izabel one last time and whispers, “I’m sorry! I love you!” into her hair._ _  
__Before Izabel can react he pushes her away, the force throwing her against the opposite wall and Wolfs out._ _  
__Kyle attacks both of them with a desperate strength that no one had expected to still be in him. Theo simply swats his punches away, dugs and evades him but doesn’t retaliate._ _  
__“_ _Kill me! Come on! KILL ME!” Kyle screams continuously._ _  
__When a strange whirring sound starts to fill the air, he grows desperate and starts to focus his attack on Izabel. Theo doesn’t step in. Driven into a corner, Izabel takes a knife out of her back pocket._ _  
__“_ _Kyle, stop!”_ _  
__But her brother doesn’t budge at the sight of the knife. If anything his attack intensifies._ _  
__Izabel searches for Theo. The Dread Doctors have appeared at the other end of the hallway and Theo is standing behind them, avoiding her eyes._ _  
__Kyle is delusional with desperation and practically throws himself into her knife now. All of her training never prepared Izabel for this._ _  
__“_ _Kill me, Iz! Please!” Kyle keeps asking of her while they spar._ _  
__“_ _Do it or they will!”_ _  
__Theo’s voice reaches Izabel and something in her breaks and turns to stone. The next time Kyle comes at her she doesn’t move herself, or the knife, out of the way._ _  
_  
~  
“Oh boy! I’m so -“  
“It’s fine,” Izabel cuts Stiles off.   
“Well, after that I didn’t really talk to Theo. He tried to explain himself to me. But I didn’t want to hear it. So he went to Derek for help.”  
“And that worked?” Stiles huffs.  
“Not exactly. He told him about the beast and that the doctor’s wanted him to find it’s real body. He told him that he wanted to kill it. So we went along to help kill the thing before it could kill anyone else.”  
“But ...wasn’t the beast in France? What about London?”  
“His chimeras, Gabe, Derek and I all went to France, trying to find the right graveyard and Theo disappeared for a couple of days. He went to see Jackson in London.”  
“JACKSON?!”  
“Apparently he asked for his help against the beast. At least that’s what he told me.”  
“And did he? Help?”  
“No, Jackson sold us out. The Dread Doctors were one step ahead of us and the beast attacked us the moment we set foot on that graveyard.”   
“But you killed it?”  
Izabel doesn’t answer. She’s staring out the window, deep in thought.   
“Izabel?”  
She jumps a little and nearly knocks her cup over. Stiles catches it before the coffee spills all over them.   
“What happened at the graveyard?”  
“I think Derek should tell that part of the Story. After all he became an Alpha that day!”  


 


	19. Satiate – fill to satisfaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles demands answers and the boys talk it out - kinda...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry it took so long to upload this but I wasn't too sure about how I wanted this to go and then I got swamped by exams...   
> This chapter contains some smut, so if you're not into that kinda stuff just stop reading at the dotted line! 
> 
> xx

When Stiles reaches Derek’s loft Theo strolls past him, followed by Liam who lifts a hand in greeting, then hurries after the chimera.   
“You’re letting him go?!”   
“Hello to you too.”   
Derek is sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looks tired.  
“Izabel is sleeping again,” Stiles informs him. He takes in the chair in the middle of the room, handcuffs still dangling from it.   
“You look like you need some rest too.”  
“I’m fine.”  
Derek drags a hand down his face and gets up. He stretches his arms over his head and his shirt lifts up a fraction. Stiles’ gaze wanders to the small patch of hair that trails down beneath the waistband of Derek’s pants.  
“So, Izabel told me the whole story,” he starts towards his boyfriend but stops again after several paces, fidgeting on the spot instead.   
“Okay,” is all Derek says, soft and quiet.   
“Why did you let Theo go? He’s nuts!”  
“So is Jackson. And I trust both of them to not rip each other’s throats out for the next couple of days.”  
“Mmh...”  
Derek walks up to Stiles and takes his hand, “What is it? I can see that something is bothering you.”  
“Nothing’s bothering me.”  
Stiles tries to sound offended but the way Derek’s thumb is drawing circles on the back of his hand is distracting. The Alpha doesn’t budge however and continues to look at him questioningly.  
“Ok, fine. Izabel also told me how she figured out you were gay. Happy?”  
Derek drops his hand and for a second panic wells up in Stiles.  
Then his boyfriend is very close all of a sudden.   
“Did she now?”  
Stiles nods, unable to speak. Derek’s scent is strong in his nose and his hands rest on Stiles’ hips. He looks up at him and bites his lip. Then he slightly pushes his boyfriend away.   
Derek raises an eyebrow, “Playing hard to get?” he growls.   
Stiles has to take a step back. Finally rescuing Izabel has lifted a burden from their shoulders and allowed them to think about something else for a change. Stiles isn't one to lie to himself, he is very tempted right now  
But talking to Izabel had reminded him of all the things unsettled between them.  
“We both know I'm easy. But there's something you need to tell me first...”  
“Doesn't sound very easy to me,” Derek pouts and steps closer again, oblivious to what Stiles is alluding to.   
Seeing Derek like this – hungry eyes, lips parted – Stiles desperately wants to jump him and kiss his stupid lips numb. Annoyed he shakes his head and keeps his eyes fixed on the ground.   
“You haven't been honest with me.”  
“If this is about Gabe...”  
“What? NO! What about him?” Stiles narrows his eyes at the wolf.  
Derek sighs and shrugs, “He was attractive,” he says nonchalantly.   
Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose, then raises both hands and rolls his eyes.   
“Was he now?”  
Derek sighs again, “It was the first time I questioned my sexuality. I hadn't considered being gay before,” he rubs his neck. “And I probably wouldn't have back then if it hadn't been for Izabel.”  
Stiles huffs, “Guess I owe that girl one.”  
Derek laughs, “We both do.” Then he sobers, “But that's not what you wanted to know, is it?”  
Stiles shakes his head, “You never told me what happened on that graveyard.” Then he remembers something, “And Izabel said something about being taken by the Dread Doctors...”  
„She was.“  
„So?“ Stiles rolls his eyes.  
“So what?”  
“SO WHAT?!” flailing, Stiles rolls his eyes again. “She was taken by the Dread Doctors ,aka the absolute evil, and you’re acting like it was no big deal! Come on, Derek,” he whines. “You gotta work with me here!”  
“Are you done?” a smirk plays around Derek’s lips.   
Finally realisation hits Stiles. He narrows his eyes and points an accusing finger at his boyfriend, “You - you....ugh! I will drag your little werewolf ass...”  
“I’m sorry,” Derek interrupts him with a laugh. “But I feel like I’m being threatened by a cupcake right now.”  
“If I roll my eyes any more I’m gonna be sore. Just tell meheeeeee!”  
“Oh, you will be sore,” Derek growls under his breath, raking his eyes up and down his boyfriend’s body.  
Stiles opens and closes his mouth several times. Baffled, he asks “W- what...what did you just say?”  
Derek just fucking winks at him.  
“The Dread Doctors took Izabel to create a new chimera. Probably because she was the only human around Theo.”  
“So you think it’s his fault?”   
Stiles tries to compose himself. Sure, Derek has flirted before but this is new. It’s exciting. And cruel.   
“Of course it is!” Derek crosses his arms, his wolfish grin gone. He sits down on the couch again. “He was the one responsible for finding new people they could experiment on. Maybe he didn’t turn her in but he knew what could happen. He should’ve stayed away from her.”   
Stiles is getting fidgety. Anger resonates in Derek’s voice but his eyes are filled with lust. Stiles has glimpsed that look before. Never this intense though.   
He can’t help himself. The human strolls over to the couch and nonchalantly sits down on Derek’s lap.  
“But nothing happened, right?”  
He slowly runs his fingers through Derek’s hair. The Alpha slings his arms around Stiles waist and pulls him closer.  
“I’m not sure what happened exactly. Izabel wouldn’t tell me much,” he mumbles into Stiles neck.   
“They did something to her but before they got to the nasty part, Theo heard what they were doing and got her out.”  
“HE got her out?”   
“Yep,” Derek’s lips brush Stiles’ neck.   
“Then she forced the truth out of him and refused to talk to the guy afterwards” he finishes.  
“Sounds like Izabel.”  
Stiles leans into his boyfriend and Derek starts pressing light kisses to his neck causing him to hum in content.   
“What about France?“ Stiles manages to get out after a while.   
Immediately Derek freezes and Stiles regrets asking. But he has to know! He shifts to straddle Derek, buries one hand in his hair and slips the other one under Derek's shirt, resting it on the small of his back. They share a soft, lingering kiss.  
„Please,“ Stiles whispers against Derek‘s lips after they part.   
Derek rolls his eyes, „You’re so annoying!“  
Stiles kisses his smiling lips.  
Derek attacks his boyfriend‘s neck again. Between kisses he starts to tell the story.  
„The Doctors wanted Theo to bring them the remnants of the Beast of Gevaudan … and since we already knew everything by then he asked for help. I told you about the Beast already, didn’t I?“  
Stiles manages to produce a strangled sound that‘s more of a whine than anything. He can feel Derek‘s smile on his skin.  
„The chimeras, Izzy and I went to France to visit this graveyard and dig up some bones,“ Derek shrugs and Stiles can feel the movement against his hand, now pressed against the wolf‘s abs. He lets his head fall back to give him better access to the soft sensitive skin of his neck.  
„Theo flew ahead and went to London to find Jackson … Apparently he heard that Jackson is crazy and thought it would be a good idea to have him on his side … At least that‘s what he told Izabel.”  
“But he wasn't on your side.”   
Derek growls lowly as Stiles pulls away a little. He has to suppress a smirk, he can feel how red and raw his neck is already. That's going to leave a mark...  
Derek shrugs and attempts to pull Stiles closer.   
But the brunette plants a hand against his chest and keeps him at a distance. He raises an eyebrow urging his boyfriend to continue the story.  
„He tipped us off and the Dread Doctors somehow managed to raise the Beast before we got there. It attacked us and killed half of Theo‘s pack.“  
Stiles lets himself be pulled closer again. As Derek slowly licks over the forming bruise on his neck, Stiles full-out moans. Which elicits a hungry growl from his boyfriend.   
He starts to really work the spot and even uses his teeth, his hands slipping under Stiles' shirt and running up and down his back.  
„It killed Gabe, so I killed it and the Doctors too!“   
At this Stiles jumps out of Derek‘s lap and onto the couch next to him. „You did WHAT?! You told me you guys killed that thing together!”  
“I killed it!”  
“Yeah!” Stiles scoffs. “I heard you! But...but how?! I mean – w...what?!” he throws his hands up and shakes his head in confusion.  
“We had a plan, it didn't work..” Derek inches closer again, backing Stiles up against the armrest. “I handled it,” he states matter-of-factly.   
His body is hovering inches over Stiles'. He dips his head down to connect their lips again. Stiles winds out of Derek's grasp and rolls off the couch. He hits his head on the coffee table.   
“Ouch.”  
“What. Are. You. Doing,” Derek says through clenched teeth.  
Stiles gets up, rubbing the back of his head.   
“I'm using my body as leverage. No touching unless you tell me exactly what happened!” more quietly he adds to himself, “This is more self-torture than anything. Woah, I'm such a man-whore!”  
Derek rolls his eyes and gets up to follow Stiles who is now pacing at the foot of his bed.   
“The Beast had already killed half of the chimeras, so Theo rounded the rest of them up for one last attack. Me and Gabe were still fighting that monster. He didn't make it.”  
“I'm...”  
“I snapped. The chimeras did attack but I was too angry to focus on anything but that – thing. I killed it! In the meantime, the doctors had arrived as well.”  
The Alpha steps closer and slings his arms around Stiles' hips.  
“Hey! I said no touching!!” he protests but doesn't move. “And then?”  
“Then I killed them.”  
Stiles groans, “Dereeeeeeeeeeeeek!”  
“I don't want to talk right now, Stilinski!”  
The intensity of the look in his eyes makes Stiles blush.   
“I'll show you the real case file if you want to know so badly,” Derek raises an eyebrow as his boyfriend opens his mouth to say something. “Tomorrow!”  
One hand in Stiles' hair, the other splayed over his shoulder, Derek kisses him. His lips are dry and soft, tentative and maybe a little begrudging until Stiles opens his mouth to tell him that this conversation isn't over yet, and then Derek's tongue is in his mouth. Suddenly there's a lot more enthusiasm involved and he forgets everything else. All he can think about is kissing him back. 

________________________________________________

Stiles doesn't know how it happens exactly. Maybe it's him who pushes Derek down on the bed. Maybe it's Derek tugging on his shirt. Either way, he ends up straddling Derek's thighs, hands cupping his jaw while he licks into Derek's mouth. The wolf's hot hands are grabbing and kneading at his hips and lower back, skimming up underneath his shirt and occasionally dipping just below the waistband of his jeans.  
“Gosh, you don't know how long I've waited for this,” Derek gnarls between kisses. “All this time, I've smelled the attraction on you. Do you know how hard it was for me to control myself?!”  
Stiles' dick is already getting hard.  
“Tell me,” he grins into the kiss.  
Instead of answering, Derek makes a low sound deep in his throat, starts canting his hips into Stiles', and Stiles can't help the low hum he lets out or the way he skims his hands down until they're under Derek's shirt. He can feel muscles clenching and unclenching every time Derek moves his hips.   
Stiles is already out of breath. He tries to pull away, to at least gulp in some air, but Derek's hand grabs the back of his head and he leans up to chase Stiles' mouth, biting at his bottom lip and pressing his dick – hard now, so hard and hot – against him. Derek starts to undo the fly of Stiles' jeans.   
“That's not an answer,” he breathes out, attempting to suck a line of hickeys down Derek's jaw, bringing his hand down to palm at the bulge in Derek's jeans.   
Derek's hips buck up, almost involuntarily, and his hands clench at the air. Stiles gets the button of Derek's jeans free, pushes his zipper down, just as Derek shoves Stiles' jeans down his hips.   
“Do you ever stop talking?”  
Stiles is too dazed to reply. He watches as Derek skims his hands over his hipbones, palms him through his briefs.  
“Fucking...get them off,” Derek snarls. Stiles leans back, looks down, and panics for maybe a split second, because this is really happening. This is Derek under him, Derek with his pupils blown wide, Derek with his lips red and swollen, Derek looking at him in arousal. At him. Stiles.   
He gets over it quickly enough, and grins even as Derek rears up and pulls his T-shirt up over his head. 

Derek is used to being aware of a lot of things at once. All his life he's had smells and almost-not-there sounds nagging at the back of his mind. Right now, he's aware that Stiles is shirtless too and his jeans are halfway down his thighs. All he smells is Stiles and sex and precome.  
Stiles is leering down at him with a mouth that's swollen and red.   
“Stiles, could you just..?” he croaks out.  
He lifts his hips off the bed and shoves his briefs down his thighs, letting out a sound of relief.   
“Well, fuck,” Stiles lets out succinctly, looking down at where Derek's dick has popped free. His leer has turned to an open-mouthed pant, and Derek snorts, rears up to pull Stiles into another kiss.   
It's pathetic how desperate he is for Stiles' tongue, desperate for his hands, for the moans he lets out every couple seconds. He's wrapped up in the smell of Stiles. He could get lost in kissing him, in feeling his skin against his own but he somehow manages to tug Stiles' briefs down his thighs.   
There is flailing involved, and of course Stiles nails Derek in the eye with his elbow, but their jeans finally end up across the room. Stiles trails wet kisses across Derek's collarbone.   
“I really fucking hope the door's locked,” Derek mutters.   
Stiles doesn't answer because obviously he didn't lock the door when he came in. Shit, when he came in all he wanted were some answers. Which he still hasn't gotten but it's kind of late to return to a heart-to-heart now with Derek's dick out.  
Derek interprets his silence correctly. He grips at Stiles' arms and turns them until Stiles is on his back and Derek is on top of him, holding himself up on his forearms and nipping at Stiles' chin.   
“You know none of them ever knock...”, he grunts.  
With a quick movement he gets up, grinning back at Stiles when he hears his heartbeat pick up, and catches him staring at his ass. Derek walks over to the door and locks it. Three times.  
He walks back to the bed, and looks down at Stiles practically laid out in front of him. Stiles moans when Derek crawls back into bed, bringing his hips down and shuddering when his dick, hard and sensitive, slides against Stiles'. Fuck, he hasn't even fucking touched it yet, neither of them have. And suddenly there is a hand around Derek's dick, around both their dicks. He looks down, sees Stiles' long fingers wrapping around both of them and has to drop his head to Stiles' shoulder and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coming.   
Usually Derek doesn't have any problems wolfing out during sex. It's second nature to him to control the shift; as easy as walking or talking. But now his teeth are sharpening as he kisses and licks and sucks at Stiles' mouth and his claws are pricking into his palms where his hands are fisted on either side of Stiles' head. But then again, he hasn't been so enthralled by anyone in a long time.   
Stiles' skin against his is hot and smooth, and he's shuddering as he cants his hips up against Derek's, squeezing both their cocks and running his hands up and down their lengths without any finesse whatsoever. The thumping of Stiles' heartbeat drowns out any outside noise.  
“Fucking hell, Derek,” Stiles hisses. “Stop daydreaming.”  
Derek laughs at that.   
“What do you want?” he asks, scraping his teeth down Stiles' neck, rocking his hips against Stiles' once, then twice. He makes his voice low, seductive, and holds himself up with one hand while he reaches down, runs the other up the length of Stiles' cock, scraping his fingernails over Stiles' fingers as he does so.  
“You, dumbass,” Stiles manages to get out, the sound of it sending shivers down Derek's spine.   
“How?”  
Derek wants to hear him talk. He wants to pin him down and make him fall apart until he's begging, until he can't say anything but “yes” and “more”, but then Stiles rolls them so they're both on their sides, facing each other. Their legs are tangled and hips aligned, their dicks sliding against each other. Derek watches, muttering curses, as Stiles gets his hands around both of them again. Derek uses his free hand to rake his claws down Stiles' thigh.  
“Fuck,” Stiles rests his forehead against Derek's chest, bites at the skin over his sternum. “I'm, uh - “  
Derek wraps his hand around Stiles' and starts pumping. The heat that's been growing, spreading out from his toes, up his limbs to his spine, gets more intense. Stiles freezes and he lets out a choked out sound and then he's coming all over both their stomachs. Derek keeps working his hand up and down the both of them, more concerned with his own orgasm now that Stiles is shuddering with pleasure.  
"Fucking—" Stiles breathes out, mouth hot and open against Derek's chest. Somehow they've moved again, and Stiles is half on top of him, half on the mattress.  
Derek lets go of Stiles' dick, starts fucking into their hands. He hears Stiles curse under his breath, and then there's a mouth peppering frantic kisses down his stomach.  
"Are you…"  
Derek doesn't finish the question, because Stiles' mouth is around his dick, cheeks hollowed out, lips red and obscene. Everything is too hot and too wet and he grabs at Stiles' hair, meaning to pull him off before he comes, but Stiles glares at him, latches on, and… and fuck, Derek can't stop the whine at the back of his throat at that. He comes, vision fizzling into white, hot, satisfying pleasure.  
Dimly he hears Stiles moan.  
"Holy fuck," Stiles says just as Derek starts thinking straight again. He glances down at Stiles resting his head against the inside of Derek's thigh, eyes closed like he's trying to concentrate on breathing and nothing else. "That was intense."  
He moves to cuddle up next to Derek.   
“This whole healing thing is so damn frustrating. I can't even give you a hickey,” he complains.   
Derek chuckles, “I guess I'll do it for both us then.”  
Stiles lets his head fall back against the Alpha's shoulder.  
Derek's eyes flash red when he mumbles,“Just give me half an hour.”


End file.
